Five years ago, you were a peppy storm chaser who had a theory that you could 'tame' a tornado with a mixture of chemicals. You and your team of 4 of your friends had always enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline, the long black train of destruction amazed you all.

Though, things didn't end up well. You left one of your friends back away from the tornado, as they were monitoring the tornado and your GPS while you and the rest of your team went out to meet the tornado in it's path. You were too close, and you had to get out of the car you were in to hopefully save your lives. Your friends were swept away by the tornado, the last person speaking to you that day was the police officers escorting you to safety after the tornado passed.

Timeskip to the present, you work at a weather station in NY, sending out warnings for tornados in other areas and such. One of your coworkers let you know that someone was calling for you, and to your surprise it was your old friend. It took a lot of convincing, but he managed to get you out to your home town, Oklahoma to chase tornadoes one last time.

You're stationed in a gas station parking lot with your friend and his team, when all of a sudden you hear loud country music being played and yelling as a red truck and a van came pulling in.

"Who's that?" You heard someone say. "That's Simon Riley. Or- the 'Tornado Wrangler' as they call him." Responded someone else. "If you feel it-" a crowd appeared around the truck, apparently his fans as their voices conjoined, "Chase it!"

You ignored it and decided to check which storm to go after that would turn into a tornado, letting the fuzz from a dandelion blow away in the wind.

"You know, I used that way once." Simon's voice spoke behind you, his accent mixed. "Guess the old ways still work as good as the new ones."