The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's filtering through grimy skylights into a dingy, cramped abattoir supply room... like, shelves stacked with old meat hooks, butchering tools, and drums of cleaning chemicals line the walls. A half-dissected cow carcass lies on a blood-stained table, its organs slowly sliding onto the floor. For some reason, all the tools on the wall are somehow rearranging themselves to spell out 'WAGDIE' in dripping red letters, even though nothing's touching them.