The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A bunch of old, worn-out farm equipment's just lying around in a big, empty barn, like plows and pitchforks and stuff. It smells like dry hay and horse manure in here, and it's pretty dusty, too - sunbeams streaming through the gaps in the wooden slats are making little motes of dust dance in the air. A horse is calmly eating hay from a trough while a nearby chicken is somehow steadily playing a pretty accurate rendition of "Cluck Old Hen" on a tiny, rusty old harmonica that's lodged in its beak. It's pretty warm and still in here, like it's late afternoon on a summer day.