The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A faded, blue-painted dumpster is slowly sliding down a sand dune, like, its metal lid flapping open and shut as it goes. The air is hot and dry, smelling of stale garbage and burnt plastic, and a bunch of shredded memes are blowing out of the dumpster's opening, caught in the whirlwind of sand particles. Umm, the sun is high overhead, casting no shadow on the dune's surface, and somehow the dumpster's wheels are leaving perfect, unblemished tire tracks in the sand despite it being, like, clearly empty and pretty battered. The air is dead still otherwise.