The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Faint scents of myrrh and sarsaparilla are wafting from this surreal, abandoned drive-in movie theater. The sky above is a deep, electric blue, like... the sun's not setting or rising, it's just stuck. A film of iridescent, rainbow-hued oil is coating every surface, including the cracked asphalt, speaker poles, and even the still-functional, Technicolor movie screen, which is currently displaying an impossible 11th-dimensional calculus equation that's rewriting itself, line by line, in perfect calligraphy. A gentle breeze stirs the air, rustling discarded fast food wrappers and crumpled movie tickets.