The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a severed crocodile head is lying on a dusty shelf in a cluttered, abandoned gas station, its jaws open wide, revealing yellowing teeth. Like, the air reeks of gasoline and rot, and sunlight pours in through grimy windows, casting a sickly yellow glow over the cracked linoleum floor. Outside, it's mid-afternoon, with a bunch of flies buzzing around a mangled deer carcass that's somehow impaled on a giant, twisted antenna sticking out of the ground. The air's heavy with the stench of death and ozone.