The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A bunch of sparrows are meticulously repainting a vintage car in a cramped, cluttered garage. The air's thick with the smell of oil and gasoline, and it's pretty warm in here, like the sun's been beating down on the roof all day. Uh, somehow the birds are perfectly matching the car's original paint job, right down to the tiny scratches and chips, even though they're just using what looks like random scraps of fabric and sticks to apply the paint. The car's hood ornament, a little metal bird, is somehow singing a gentle, whistling tune.