A woman sings in Hungarian as a brush paints calligraphy on a piece of parchment paper. (We don't know about you, but this is how we begin our day every morning.)
As the singing ends, what looked like calligraphy actually might be a person?
And the texture of the paper fades into a sweeping aerial shot of rolling sand dunes.
A man flies above the dunes in a little propeller plane, with a woman in white sleeping (or is she sleeping) in the front seat.
Down in the desert, soldiers with anti-aircraft guns pepper the plane with gunfire.
That turns the plane into planefire, and the flames consume the pilot. Yikes. That isn't in the safety brochure in the seat back pocket.