Turns out Naaaango traveled far and wide on the journey that eventually led him to Sheboygan. The Blues beat passage North and East to the Hawaiian Islands and then East to the Kuril Islands north of Japan. From there they sailed past the Aleutions until finally sailing into the fine port at Vancouver, B.C. At each stop the Blues were busily involved with the gathering of red goats, such as Naaaango was, and making prisoners of them in the hold of their ship. It sucked! said Naaaango. Sucked Big Dog! We were kept down below with little fresh air and hardly any chow. What chow there was was DRY, man. Picture it, Phfrankie! Naaaango says. We're all crowded in there like cigars...and we stink! We're goats!! We already stink, but bein' packed into the hold of a ship with no...you know...man, it was rank! All the way to some place called Vancouver. Musta took two months. Then we're herded off the ship like...goats...and loaded into boxcars on a train headed for some place called Sheboygan. Say, Phfrank, Naaaango says, what say we go next door to Taco Bell for twenty-five or thirty tacos while I finish telling you the story?Can we Phfrankie...can we?? I tol' Naaaango right then and there that I was busted, flat broke...no can do, pal. I heard him mumble something...then he put his front left hoof up to his forehead and made the shape of a big "L". Ingrate frickin' goat.