Granted. Your unpowered rubber duck becomes trapped in the currents, and carried into the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. With nothing to eat and nothing to drink, you die a slow wasting death under the relentless sun.
I wish that I could be one of my Shadowrun characters.
Imagine a rubix cube whose faces are aligned: the puzzle solved. This is the world of the familiar. A few short twists and turns and those same ordered faces become jumbled and chaotic, impenetrable to all but the most cunning.