So, I was a CSI, as in on TV, worked with Willam Petersen, the whole bit. We were investigating a murder at what appeared to be a carnival funhouse. I wasn't sure what was going on because there was hay and tarps everywhere. Suddenly, everyone was yelling "Run!" and we all ran out of the building and into a field toward some trees. I was the last in line and everyone dropped onto the ground and began to belly crawl across the grass. I was really scared. A car came screetching up and these people all jumped out and hauled me into the car. I woke up in their house and realized I wasn't tied up or anything, but I also realized that they probably were going to kill me unless William Petersen came to rescue me. I wandeder into the kitchen and asked the guy in there if he needed any help making dinner. He looked like he hadn't had a shower in a few weeks and maybe had been working on cars. He said he didn't, so I went and looked out the window. I was getting dark and I realized I knew where I was and how I was going to escape.