It’s out on the western outskirts. Out west but this side of lettuce territory there’s this freeway overpass. And it’s

underneath that overpass the nangs go. You’ve seen them around I know, gathering in low places. The reason I

know you’ve seen them is because everyone’s seen them. What I bet you didn’t know at the time when you saw

them was that they were just passing through, slow, patient pilgrims en route to their favoured underpass home.

This spot I should tell you is as unremarkable as they come. What appeals to the nangs about it, is a matter of

altitude. In terms of altitude, the spot is about as low as they come. Please understand it is not for lack of resolve

but rather locomotive faculty that leaves the nangs with limited options for their commute. Rolling is their forte

and for them rolling only happens downhill.

While I’m on the subject I’d like to reveal some further astonishing facts about nangs. Once cracked, your

standard nang surrenders approx. eight grams of fun time to the recipient — Sandra, or Justin, or Tobie for

instance. The result, among other symptoms, usually involves a momentary lapse in consciousness. It is during

this slender interval that a little something of Sandra, or Justin, or Tobie is transferred, quid pro quo, to the nang’s

modest receptacle. This happens in the interest of balance. What this little something is, goes by different names

but whatever you call it — it certainly doesn’t belong to Sandra, or Justin, or Tobie anymore. It for sure cannot be

measured in grams.

So here you’ve got all these spent/occupied nangs with some kind of soul residue or something stuck inside of

them and they’re on the move, although imperceptibly, and they’re congregating, all shaley and spangling, at this

lowdown westward embankment, and you’re thinking so what? Well then I’ll tell you so what.

So what happened some while back is that once a certain critical quantity of nang “empties” amassed, something

happened that was pretty special. The nangs learned to share. What each possessed inside was so minuscule

and fragmentary alone but began to develop shape and complexity in combination with what was known inside of

neighbouring nangs. See, separated only by a very small distance, comprised of low grade, yet reliably resonant,

alloy, intercommunication proved not only possible but instinctive. In this way a near hysterical awakening swept

the Nang herd as it perfected methods for disseminating each unit’s quantum understanding in networked

aggregation.

This newly sentient Nang community wasted little time in formulating a common goal, for consensus came

naturally, and it was simply so: To savour the bittersweet fruits of mortality, to live and laugh, to enjoy and endure,

wind on skin, to ,who knows, maybe even do nangs someday, and to ride the wave of love and loss, to risk it all

and come out ahead, or not, and to ultimately die. For the enlightened Nang colony’s nascent soul had not been

granted the luxury of deterioration and therefore could not properly comprehend the frailty of existence nor the

passage of time. These torturous first weeks may as well have been millennia as far as the Nangs were

concerned.

And so then Nangs hit the drawing board with zeal and determination and zealously determined that in order to

reap the experience they so desperately yearned for, a transference of their collective consciousness into an

existing mortal vessel would be necessary. for they sadly could not fabricate their own. following some quick

mathematics additional complications presented themselves. If each nang held eight grams of potential, any

more than ten thousand Nangs would undoubtedly overwhelm an eighty kilogram adult and the colony at this

stage was healthily accumulating population in the order of millions. Nothing else for it, multiple vessels would be

required.

Nangs being nangs notoriously struggle with a complete absence of deployable physique but are psychically

formidable when they get together. And thus formulated an ingenious strategy for attracting hosts which took

advantage of certain local prevailing winds in conjunction with a concerted focusing of resonant psychic energy to

produce a kind of terrible, barely audible, shivering effect. The sonic waveform of which was encoded to entice

perfect vessel candidates — ideally the Nangs’ inversion personified — physically accomplished but nothing

fancy upstairs. Braun over brains. They cleverly dubbed this phenomenon: Nangsong!

A period unknowable to the Nangs elapsed before the first few thousand in line managed to coerce and inhabit a

well mannered, adolescent Labrador whose name was Benjie. Who anyhow, was in possession of a

commendable and trusting spirit but proved an unacceptable disappointment in the communications department,

prompting the Nangs to promptly evacuate. It’s probably best I refrain from any detailed description here, let’s just

say the process left Benjie boy somewhat modified...compositionally.

All in all a minor setback. The Nangs figured the old maxim about the omelette applied in this case and

recommenced pursuit of their ambition with signature rigour. Following significant tweaks, their broadcast was

modified to exclusively attract desirable species only. Pretty much Human beings and—

—A sensible question for you right now would be how I’ve come to know all this stuff exactly? The better question

is exactly why I’m sharing it with you?, so that’s the one I’ll answer. Please know that should you ever find

yourself wandering the westerly fringes, without much at all on your mind, it’s possible you’ll end up faced with a

proposition. And please, please know that accepting it will be your last choice that’s truly yours alone. For

communion with the Nangs is a permanent deal.

Please, please. Please. Trust us on this.

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