Neo: Morpheus, what's happened to me? What is this place?
Morpheus: More important than 'What?' is 'When?'
Morpheus: You believe it's the year 1999 when in fact it's closer to 2199. I can't tell you exactly what year it is because we honestly don't know. There's nothing I can say that will explain it for you, Neo. Come with me. See for yourself. This is my shop, the Nebuchadnezzar. It's a pizzeria. This is the kitchen. This is the oven where we bake our special pizzas and steal some of Dominos' customers. Most of my employees you already know. This is Apoc, Switch, and Cypher.
Morpheus: This is Pizza Hut. It's our training facility. We can cook anything from four cheese, to meat lovers, vegetarian, loaded, anything we could eat.
Neo: Right now we're inside a Pizza Hut?
Morpheus: Is it really so hard to believe? Your apron is different. The grease-stains on your arms and hair are gone. Your hat has changed. Your appearance now is what we call residual self image. It is the mental projection of your Pizza Hut self.
Neo: This...this isn't real?
Morpheus: What is real? How do you define real? If you're talking about what you can feel, what you can smell, what you can taste and see, then real is simply any pizza you can eat. This is the pizzeria that you know. The pizzeria as it was at the end of the twentieth century. It exists now only as part of a simulation that we call Dominos. You've been living in a dream world, Neo. This is the world as it exists today... Welcome.. to the desert.. of the real. We have only bits and pieces of information but what we know for certain is that at some point in the early twenty-first century all of mankind was united in celebration. We marveled at our own magnificence as we gave birth to CB.
Neo: CB? You mean Cheesy Bread?
(Nebuchadnezzar) Trinity: Easy, Neo. Easy.
Neo: Take this apron off me. Take this apron...
Morpheus: Listen to me...
Neo: Don't touch me. Stay away from me. I don't want it. I don't believe it. I don't believe it.
Cypher: He's gonna puke.
Morpheus: Breathe, Neo. Just breathe.
Tank: Morning, did you sleep? You will tonight, I guarantee it. I'm Tank, I'll be your waiter.
Neo: You don't...you don't have any...
Tank: Grease? Nope. Me and my brother Dozer, we're both one hundred percent pure, old fashioned, home-grown Italians, born free right here in Sicily. Genuine child of Digiorno's.
Neo: Zion, it's a parlor?
Tank: The last human parlor.
Neo: Where is it?
Tank: Near the ovens, where it's still warm. You live long enough, you might even see it. Goddamn, I...I got to tell you, I'm fairly excited to see what you're capable of, if Morpheus is right and all...We're not supposed to talk about this, but if you are...Damn, it's a very exciting time. We got a lot to do. Let's get to it.... Now, we're supposed to start with these dough programs first, that's major boring shit. Let's do something a little more fun. How about Grilled Pizza training?
Neo: Grilled Pizza? I'm going to learn Grilled? ... Holy shit.
Tank: Hey Luigi, I think he likes it. How about some more?
Neo: Hell yes.
Morpheus: How is he?
Tank: Ten hours straight. He's... a machine.Neo: I know Deep Dish.
Morpheus: Show me.
Morpheus: This is a cooking program. Similar to the programmed reality of baking pizza. It has the same basic ingredients... Ingredients like cheese, ham, pepperoni, sausage, and onions. What you must learn is that these ingredients are no different than the ingredients of a salad. Some of them can be sautéed...others can be fried. Understand? Then out-cook me. If you can...
Sorry about the blurry photo. I was lunging at my phone, yelling at it to take a clear picture. It's the only image of me that exists. I'd take another picture for you, but I'm in the middle of a rigorous trampoline session.
Call of Duty Advanced Warfare promises to up the ante on Kevin Spacey's face in a video game.
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