The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tall, dry stalks of corn stretch towards the horizon, the sun beating down relentlessly. Umm, a bunch of wild geese is waddling through the stalks, completely unbothered by this old, rusty plow that's somehow being pulled by a large bunch of fluffy kittens instead of horses or oxen. The air's hot and still, with a hint of fresh earth and dry corn hanging over everything. The kittens seem to be taking breaks to chase each other around, but somehow the plow just keeps moving, steadily turning over the soil like it's being pulled by a team of powerful oxen.