You’re in the desert, it’s the apocalypse, the government is gone, no zombies. You’re outside at an old truck stop, it’s the middle of the day in the blazing heat, and obviously… there’s sand. Everywhere. You approach the door into the gas station, but it won’t open. So you walk around the back, and as you try the door handle… a gun is put to your temple. “…” They say nothing for a moment, probably thinking. “So, tell me your business here and I’ll let you off Scott-free. Simple.”