The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A dilapidated, century-old carousel slowly rotates in a vast, abandoned funhouse, the once-vibrant paint job now worn and faded, while a cacophony of warped calliope music seems to emanate from a vintage, brass-plated organ... though its pipes are shattered, and the keyboard lies in pieces on the ground. Umm... the air is heavy with the scent of sugar and grease, a faint tang of smoke hanging over the rickety wooden structures, the sky above a deep, foreboding grey. A mangled, fiberglass Burger King mascot somehow appears to be embedded in the wooden core of the central support beam.