(A few days later...)
(RIKK and KATHERINE are talking by telephone. Rikk is outside a movie theater in Kentucky, Katherine is in a greasy-spoon diner in Oklahoma.)
KATHERINE: ...you sure you don't want to meet out west? A lot of nothing out here...
RIKK: Too wide open. And too obvious. The people after us are expecting us to group together, stay out of sight. That's why we're in disguise at this cineplex, taking in The Matrix for the umpty-leventh time.
KATHERINE: Sure that's a good idea?
RIKK: No. But Will's disguised us pretty well... though I don't like this nose-pinching mustache.
KATHERINE: I know. I'm wearing pigtails again.
KATHERINE: I actually meant the choice of movie. Will and Tim are gonna talk all the way through it. And Alisin doesn't like it, so she'll talk too... and even Rumy...
RIKK: I want that. I want an outlet for some of the tension in the group. And we need something to remind us of the freedoms we're fighting for. The Matrix is a cultural symbol for what we're up against...
KATHERINE: And if an agent hears you in there?
RIKK: If there's one thing we learned when Will shot me, it's that too much fear and caution is as bad as too little. (sigh) He'd be whipping himself with birch rods right now if I'd let him. I never knew he was so afraid of mind control.
KATHERINE: ...Yeah. Me neither.
(Awkward pause. Inside the theater, the "FEATURE PRESENTATION" music starts.)
RIKK: I better go.
(Rikk enters the theater. TIM and ALISIN, he notices ruefully, are the only two sitting together, with RUMY and WILL taking opposite ends of the row. He sits next to Tim and hopes for the best as the "evil-colored" Warner Brothers logo fades in.)
FADE IN ON:
So close it has no boundaries.
A blinking cursor pulses in the electric darkness like a heart coursing with phosphorous light, burning beneath the derma of black-neon glass.
A PHONE begins to RING, we hear it as though we were making the call. The cursor continues to throb, relentlessly patient, until --
Trinity: Is everything in place?
Cypher: You weren't supposed to relieve me.
WILL: "In fact, you were supposed to irritate me, and you're doing a great job. Keep it up."
The entire screen fills with racing columns of numbers. Shimmering like green-electric rivets, they rush at a 10-digit phone number in the top corner. Numbers begin to fall into place...
Trinity: I know, but I want to take your shift.
Cypher: You like him, don't you? You like watching him.
TIM: "Yeah, something about guys who spend their entire day starin' at a screen an' workin' on carpal tunnel syndrome just gets me damp."
Trinity: Don't be ridiculous.
Cypher: We're going to kill him, do you understand that?
Trinity: Morpheus believes he is the one.
Cypher: Do you?
Trinity: It doesn't matter what I believe.
WILL: "What's important is that we represent individual freedom on Earth. Next to that, what do my puny little thoughts matter?"
RIKK (thinks to himself): This isn't working.
Cypher: You don't, do you?
Trinity: Did you hear that?
Cypher: Hear what?
WILL: That thudding sound! Is it the symbolism or the plot?
Trinity: Are you sure this line is clean?
TIM: "I just spit-cleaned it this morning!"
Cypher: Yeah, of course I'm sure.
Trinity: I better go.
ALISIN: "I hate 'clean' lines. Where's a good dirty joke site?"
We MOVE STILL CLOSER, the ELECTRIC HUM of the green numbers GROWING INTO an OMINOUS ROAR.
She hangs up as we PASS THROUGH the numbers, moving impossibly close to the computer screen. Fade to black...
RIKK: BONK! OW!
Suddenly, a flashlight cuts open the darkness and we find ourselves in --
WILL: -- summer camp.
TIM: -- Bolivia.
RIKK: -- a theater.
ALISIN: -- a state a' total boredom.
RUMY: (Sigh...) -- fashionable clothes.
INT. CHASE HOTEL - NIGHT
The hotel was abandoned after a fire licked its way across the polyester carpeting, destroying several rooms as it spooled soot up the walls and ceiling, leaving patterns of permanent shadow.
TIM: Hey, maybe we should shack up THERE tonight, Rikk. Looks just like where we're stayin' now, only they got an Internet connection.
We FOLLOW four armed POLICE officers using flashlights as they creep down the blackened hall and ready themselves on either side of room 303.
WILL: But ha, HA, Trinity's outsmarted the symbolists and is hiding in room 202!
The biggest of them violently kicks in the door --
The other cops pour in behind him, guns thrust before them.
ALISIN: Ooh, yeah, thrust those guns, baby... (yawn)
Big Cop: Freeze! Police!
The room is almost devoid of furniture. There is a fold-up table and chair with a phone, a modern, and a powerbook computer. The only light in the room is the glow of the computer.
Sitting there, her hands still on the keyboard, is TRINITY; a woman in black leather.
ALISIN: Who everybody just ASSUMES is everythin', anythin', be-all AND end-all of the Goth movement wrapped up inta one nice, neat, incredibly dull an' sleepy-actin' character, just because their li'l minds can't handle us t'BEGIN with. Free y'r mind an' be blind t' colorlessness.
Cop: Hands on your head. Do it. Do it now.
Trinity rises. She slowly puts her hands behind her head.
TIM: But he didn' say "Simon says!"
EXT. CHASE HOTEL - NIGHT
A black sedan with tinted windows glides in through the police cruisers.
WILL: Clinton just can't stay out of the spotlight for a minute, can he?
AGENT SMITH and AGENT BROWN get out of the car.They wear dark suits and sunglasses even at night. They are also always hardwired; small Secret Service earphones in one ear, its cord coiling back into their shirt collars.
RUMY: How can they see?
Agent Smith: Lieutenant...
Lieutenant: Oh shit.
Agent Smith: Lieutenant, you were given specific orders.
Lieutenant: Hey, I'm just doing my job. You give me juris-my-diction crap, you can cram it up your ass.
TIM: Potty mouth! POTTY MOUTH!
Agent Smith: The orders were for your protection.
Lieutenant: I think we can handle one little girl.
TIM: Am I the only one a li'l creeped OUT by the way the cop laughs when he calls her a "little girl?"
Lieutenant: I sent two units. They're bringing her down now.
RIKK: By describing George W. Bush's tax plan to her.
WILL: Hey, that's a pretty good political joke.
RIKK (thinks to himself): That's my only political joke.
Agent Smith: No, Lieutenant, your men are dead.
INT. CHASE HOTEL
Quick, creepy fight scene which is already being imitated everywhere. Long story short: Trinity kills the four cops in about fifteen seconds.
TIM: Why is this movie so fecal? Wouldn't these machines be more disguistin' than human waste, an' therefore provoke new, creative, machine-related cusswords?
WILL: Tim Mitts, linguist of obscenity.
TIM: An' a cunning linguist I am.
RIKK: He got the idea from Shadowgun.
ALISIN: *Much* more imaginative derivative crap.
EXT. CHASE HOTEL
Agent Brown enters the hotel, while Agent Smith heads for the alley.
INT. CHASE HOTEL
Trinity is on the phone, pacing. The other end is answered.
WILL: "911. If you are being murdered, press 1. If you are murdering someone, press 2..."
Trinity: Morpheus, the line was traced, I don't know how.
Morpheus: I know, they cut the hard line. There's no time, you're going to have to get to another exit.
Trinity: Are there any agents?
TIM: (sings) You're in good hands with Allstate!
Morpheus: You have to focus, Trinity. There's a phone at Wells and Lake. You can make it.
WILL: "I mean Lake ERIE."
Trinity: All right.