The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Fuck, it's pitch black and... there's this abandoned, half-destroyed Burger King, like the roof's caved in and shit. Umm, the air's stale and musty, heavy with the smell of grease and rotten food. It's dead quiet, except for this goddamn cash register that just keeps ringing up orders by itself, the sound echoing through the wreckage, and, uh, somehow a perfectly intact, steaming hot Whopper just materialized on the counter, out of thin air. Everything's spinning, and I just wanna sit down...