The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tons of worn-down, antique farm tools are scattered all over this abandoned, rural barn, like, half-buried in the hay. The air's got this weird, musty smell and it's really humid, with the sunlight streaming in through the slats in the roof. A couple of raccoons are just casually rearranging the tools into perfect geometric patterns as they move around, and the air's really still and silent, except for the occasional creak of the wooden beams. Umm, a perfectly functional, miniature replica of the Golden Gate Bridge somehow just exists in the center of the barn.