The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A vintage tractor's sitting in the middle of a dusty farm field, like, the engine's somehow still running but the tractor itself isn't moving an inch, the wheels just spinning lazily in place. Umm, a few crows are perched on the hood, totally unbothered by the motion, and the air's warm with a hint of freshly plowed earth and the late afternoon sun casts a golden glow over the scene. The only sounds are the gentle rumble of the engine and the distant clucking of chickens coming from a nearby coop.