"sionnsar"!
A figure comes down the hall, preceded by his shadow cast from a light from somewhere far beyond the end of the hall. He sits down at the desk sighing, it has been a long day at the computers, and starts typing.
"Modem, do your thing."
Modem's hard drive spins up, chuckles to itself briefly, then the distinctive tones of a 28.8kbps modem connection are heard.
The connection is tested, and pronounced live. A prepared warning is issued -- will it be ten minutes? More? Or less? Nobody knows. But the operation is now underway.
It's Moving Day.