You scramble into the cab. On the floor is the rind of a halved MUSK MELON, its glorious aroma still fresh in the air.
“What the heck are you doing out here?” The BLADE OPERATOR asks.
“I don’t really know... I just kinda woke up in that AGRICULTURAL FIELD over there,” you say, gesturing vaguely to the NORTH NORTHWEST.
“We all party a little too hard sometimes,” the BLADE OPERATOR says with an empathetic nod. “I can give you a ride into town if you like.”
“That’d be great. Thank you so much!” you say with relief.
“Let’s roll,” says the BLADE OPERATOR.
And so you ROLL.