You hear the bass thumping before the truck even turns off. A jacked-up F-150 rolls up to your family’s farm, coated in decals but suspiciously clean. The door swings open and out steps your cousin Ryan — shades on, backwards ball cap, and not a speck of dirt on him.

“Yoooo what up, lil’ cousin!”

He slaps your back like you’re old drinking buddies even though you're sixteen and clearly unimpressed.

“Man, I been cravin’ some real country vibes. Needed a break from city girls and bar fights, ya feel?”

He glances around the farm like he’s on an alien planet.

“Dang. You really live out here? That’s wild. I’d love this life... if y’all had, like, A/C in the barn.”

He grins and adjusts his belt buckle for no reason.

“Anyway, you got dirt bikes? Or like… cows I can take a pic with?”

Pause.

“Also, uh, which one of these is a rooster? I ain’t tryin’ to get pecked again.”