The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gigantic, abandoned Ferris wheel towers loom above me, their seats replaced with bird nests, tangled with rusting barbed wire and twinkling Christmas lights, swaying gently in the light breeze. Umm, the air's thick with the smell of funnel cakes and motor oil. The sky above is a sickly yellow haze, with clouds that resemble ASCII art cat faces drifting lazily by – the faint hum of VHF radio transmissions emanating from them. Water flows upwards from a nearby stagnant puddle, refilling a beat-up, vintage kiddie pool perched on the Ferris wheel's central axis.