The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a mangled, old crop duster plane is somehow lodged in the branches of a totally dead, barren tree in the middle of this empty, dusty farm field... the air's super dry, and it smells like gasoline and smoke. Like, a steady stream of what looks like old, broken farm tools is still pouring out of a totally rusted-out, partially crushed silo nearby, the sound of creaking metal and crunching gravel filling the air. The plane's propellers are somehow still spinning slowly, pushing what looks like a perfect, miniature tornado through the dusty air.