Many years past, on an arid planet many light years from Earth, life evolved. First proteins, then single celled amoeba-like organisms, and eventually large colonies consisting of billions of cells. Due to the dry conditions on the planet, the colonies were far apart, hundreds of kilometers away from each other in the desert. Eons passed, and some of them evolved intelligence and self-aware consciousness. They evolved a fleshy membrane that they would flex, vibrating the air and transmitting sound waves, by which they could communicate with one another. They called this 'zwonking'. Mostly, they would entertain each other with epic poems, usually lamenting their isolation and the scarcity of water. One day, one of the amoeba colonies began to 'zwonk' the most beautiful, profound, heartfelt poem the universe had ever known.
At that same moment, the spacecraft RTCS Hermes Trismagestus was finishing refueling in a nearby gas giant. A stowaway descendent of 20th century teen drug treatment guru/noted child abuser Virgil Miller Newton attempted to sexually assault the starship's navigator (a genetically engineered, hyperintelligent piece of dog shit---those Newton genes run deep), which resulted in the ship spinning out of control, crashing into the arid planet, killing on impact the 'zwonking' amoeba colony that was author of the beautiful poem, and dooming the others to certain death by radiation poisoning as the reactor core of the RTCS Hermes Trismagestus exploded, sending clouds of death across the planet's atmosphere.
Thousands of years later, a descendent of RTP2003 would discover that you could get really high by smoking fossilized radioactive amoeba colony membranes, if you ground it into a powder and added table salt. A few years after the that, the kids picked up on it, smoking it at dance clubs and parties. They called it 'zwonking', but they didn't know why.
