The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A grimy, retro-futuristic laundromat stretches out before me, like, with washers and dryers that seem to be constantly in motion despite being unplugged, and covered in crude ASCII art of Pepe the Frog and other internet memes etched into the rusty metal. The air's thick with the smell of mildew and burnt wiring, and I can hear the sound of clattering machinery and buzzing neon lights overhead. Umm, a mangled mess of crushed Chill Guy plushies are spilling out of one of the washers, as if they've somehow been physically glitched out of the fabric of reality.