The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm in the middle of a quiet, rural general store under a bright, sunny sky. Like, a bunch of chickens are operating an old-fashioned cash register, somehow keeping perfect track of all the transactions despite not being able to read. The air's warm and still, with the smell of fresh hay and sugar hanging in there, and umm, the prices of everything on the shelves somehow keep adjusting perfectly to match the changing market rates outside. Shelves stacked with cans, flour sacks, and fresh vegetables are all perfectly organized and spotless.