The ship pulls in . . .

  As you fly through the bub-
ble Earth is actually con-
tained in, you see the planet
spinning towards you.
  The pilot swooops toward a
green speck on the northern
American continent and, mirac-
ulously, ends up on a deserted
road jutting through the coun-
tryside.
  The engines begin to cool
down, as does the exterior of
the ship. The rapid descent
should have fried the thing,
but it merely became blister-
ingly hot.
  "If you need another inter-
stellar lift, stick out your
thumb.", chirps the pilot as
the canopy closes.  Slowly,
the craft lifts off the
ground, then it seems to just
disappear, leaving the four of
you standing by the roadside.
  Looking to the east and
west, the road seems to
stretch on forever, without so
much as a doghouse to break
the tediosity. Now for the
walk back . . . .