The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water pours out of a broken fridge, like, filling up a nearby bucket in the cramped, dirty kitchen of a dingy studio apartment. The air reeks of rotting Chinese takeout and stale cigarettes, and sunlight pours in through grimy windows, making the peeling linoleum floor sticky with heat. Uh, a laptop screen on the counter shows a muted stream of a Lo-fi hip hop YouTube video, while the sink somehow spits up last night's ramen noodles back into a bowl, completely reassembled. The smell of burnt coffee wafts from the coffee maker.