All language subtitles for The.Zero.Theorem.2013.1080p.BluRay.x264.YIFY.Hearing.Impaired.Eng

(♪♪♪)

(THUNDER CLAPPING)

(PHONE RINGING)

(RINGING CONTINUES)

Hello? Hello?

(PERSON TALKING
INDISTINCTLY OVER PHONE)

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

Another day.

Another day.

(BELL JINGLES)

(SIGHS)

(CONSTRUCTION MACHINES
GRINDING AND POUNDING)

Go away.

Go away.

(MAN COUGHS)

(♪♪♪)

(BICYCLE BELL RINGS)

When I say stop,
you have to... Morning.

Have a nice day.

WOMAN (OVER SPEAKER):
Good morning, madam.

We at Euphoria Finance want to
put the "you" back into euphoria.

Your lifestyle is our concern.

Your dreams are our dreams.

That's why we say,
"Enough is never enough."

Call us today and ask for more.

Good morning, madam.
We at Euphoria...

Everyone's getting
rich, except you.

Learn the secrets of their
success tonight at 8 on DuMBC.

Bored with Buddhism,
sick of Scientology?

Then the Church of Batman the
Redeemer may be the answer.

The future has come and gone.

Where were you?

Don't miss out the next
time. Call 897-3434.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(HORNS HONKING)

WOMAN 1: Occupy Mall Street now.

Autumn sales have
started. Bargains galore.

Up to 100 percent
off selected items.

Autumn sales have
started. Bargains galore.

Up to 100 percent
off selected items.

WOMAN 2:
...24 hours a day at BabyC.

We've cut out all the bad news.

(♪♪♪)

FEMALE ANNOUNCER: We live in
a chaotic, confusing world.

So many choices, so little time.

What do we need?

Who do with love?

What brings us joy?

(DOG BARKING)

MALE ANNOUNCER: Mancom, making
sense of the good things in life.

(CROWD APPLAUDING)

Ahem. I hope you enjoyed
our presentation.

- Thank you. Thank you very much.
- Thank you.

Now, if you'll please follow me.

Please stay together. Here's
your chance to observe

Mancom's proprietary Q-void
computation system in action.

No photos, please. Thank you.

We call it the power of six.

Six degrees of convergence,

providing stability for
business or personal needs.

As you can see, our company
encourages an atmosphere

of vigorous but
healthy competition.

(INDISTINCT ANNOUNCEMENT
OVER SPEAKER)

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello, Qohen Leth. Corporate
Health Maintenance

have approved review of your
disability request for today at 14:40.

Please be prompt.

We're nothing if not prompt.

(MACHINE WHIRRING)

All right, Quinn.

How's it hanging?

It's Qohen, Mr. Joby.

And as we've told you before,
it isn't hanging well. We're dying.

You should see the medics about
that. Can't afford to lose you.

- We have an appointment this afternoon.
- Not this afternoon.

- You approved it.
- Cancel.

You got still the Transfinite
Paradox project due today.

Finished.

Pathologics division's running
the standard redundancies.

You do all that this morning?

As mentioned to you repeatedly,
we detest working here.

Considering our output, we
can't begin to understand

- why you insist on our coming here.
- That's a Management issue.

- It's Qohen. Q, no U, O-H-E-N.
- Out of my hands.

Then perhaps we should be
talking to Management.

No, no, no. Nobody
speaks to Management.

You know that. No way, no way.
Look, take my advice.

Knock off the bitching and
moaning. It's not bad.

We could accept braving
this ghastly place

were it not for fear
of missing our call.

Oh, that call, yeah. Could you not let
the machine take it or call forwarding?

I could always bend the rules
on personal calls in your case.

We have to be home to receive it.

Look, I'll see what I
can do, all right?

Sorry.

- We prefer not to be touched.
- All right.

DOCTOR 1: Qohen Leth,
ontological research division,

requesting disability leave.

Or reassignment to work at home.

That's Management's
decision, Mr. Leth.

We only deal with
health issues here.

What seems to be the problem?

- We are dying.
- DOCTOR 2: Who's we?

Us. Ourselves.

- But there's only one of you.
- QOHEN: So it would appear.

(DOCTOR 1 COUGHS)

This subject has undergone
five physicals the last year.

He's healthy as a horse.

- My hair has fallen out.
- DOCTOR 1: Perfectly normal.

You're the most productive
number cruncher in your unit.

Entity crunchers.

We work with esoteric data
that have a life on their own

and are substantially more
complex than numbers.

In the experience of this board, dying
people are rarely so productive.

- QOHEN: Nevertheless, we're dying.
- No, we're not.

Yes, we are.

- No, we're not.
- Yes, we are.

- We're not.
- Yes, we are.

- Not. Not. Not.
- Bus, bus.

May the party-party bug.

DOCTOR 3: I'll do this one.

(DOCTOR 1 COUGHING)

You're not dying.

Although, in a way,

from the moment of birth,
we all begin to die.

Call it divinely
planned obsolescence.

Soon or late, beggar or king,
death is the end of all things.

Why, life might be seen as a virus

infecting the perfect
organism of death.

DOCTOR 2: That's enough, doctor.

It's true.

Disability request denied.
It's back to work for you.

However, this board recommends
further psychiatric evaluation.

QOHEN:
I haven't time for more therapists.

I hope you'll have time for this.

Did you hear about
tonight? Changed.

- It's not 8, it's 7:30, right?
- Okay.

I'm going as a tiger.

(BOTH LAUGH)

All right, Quinn. I told you, the
medics wouldn't help. Leave it.

It's all right. Joby's on
the job. Problem solved.

- You're sending us home?
- One thing at a time.

I can get Management to see you.
He's coming to my party tonight.

- Party?
- I'll just give you the address.

You turn up and I'll do the rest.

We're afraid we can't.

What, staying in and
washing your hair?

We have to stay home,
wait for our call.

Look, do you want my help or not?

We fear parties.

Never quite know where to stand.

(LAUGHING)

You kill me, you lunatic. You
don't know where to stand?

You gotta love it.

I'll see you tonight, Quinn.

It's Qohen.

Hey! Quinn!

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING INSIDE)

That's the wrong way.
This way. This way.

Party. Party. Come in. Come in.

MAN: Yeah.

This is the main room,
everything's free in there.

Hello, Barbara. How you
doing, darling? All right?

You... She can't...

You see what this is?

You see this? Know what it is?

That's marble. It's real marble.

This place is covered in it.
It's my uncle's.

It was my uncle's. He lost everything
in the Sit On My Facebook crash.

The removal men are coming tomorrow

but tonight, it's ours,

so you party. Heh. Whoo!

- Is Management here?
- Mm! Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Keep it down. You don't wanna
start a rumour, right?

- Where's Management?
- Shh.

When he gets here,
I'll let you know.

In the meantime, lighten up.
Have some fun for a change.

And mingle, Quinn.
Mingle, all right?

It's Qohen.

Yeah, yeah, of course.

(SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY)

(MAN LAUGHS)

Hi.

I love the look.

Final evolution or re-product?

Maximum brain, minimalist body.

Excuse us.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

(GRUNTS)

(SIGHS)

(♪♪♪)

(CLINKING)

(GASPS)

Sit.

Now, what seems to be the problem?

We simply want to go home.

Home?

(MUTTERS)

We can tell that you are a
man who values his solitude,

and we too are better
off left alone.

We fail to see the logic
in wasting time commuting

to a cubicle where we
work independently

amid other workers
similarly cubicled.

We could easily double
the output there

at home.

And our chief concern is
that we might miss our call.

You see, we've been waiting
for a call all our life now.

And, well, we've...

The nature or the origin of our
call remains a mystery to us.

We can't help but hope

that it will provide us with a
purpose we've long lived without.

You're quite insane, Mr. Leth.

We're sorry to have disturbed you.

- Drink?
- No.

MAN: Drink?

Oh! Whoa, Quinn, you
chrome dome bastard.

Where are you sneaking off?
Sneaky, sneaky.

- Give me that coat.
- We've seen him.

- Who?
- Management.

Would you stop? Management
parties incognito.

- No, this isn't what he...
- You're blowing his cover.

We really must go home now.

JOBY: No. Look, I'll sort something out.
I'll get you a proper meeting with him.

There's no way you're going
without something to eat.

It's Qohen.

- We've had, apparently, our meeting.
- Just one.

Our diet dictates against any
foods with perceptible flavour.

All right, all right, all right.
Eat, eat, eat. That's an order.

Plenty of eats.

(GASPING)

Plenty more.

Plenty for everybody.

- All right.
- Hey. Hold. Hold it. Yeah.

(CHOKING)

What is the meaning
of life, Mr. Leth?

Ah. So close to its end
and still no answers.

I have a special project for you that
could prove to be mutually beneficial.

There's not a lot of time,
not much time at all.

(GRUNTS)

(QOHEN WHEEZING)

(BOTH PANTING)

Whoo!

(♪♪♪)

Okay.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

WOMAN: You alive in there?

Whoo. Are you okay?

Yeah?

Yeah.

Excuse us.

- Care to join me?
- Excuse us?

I won't be long.

(URINATING)

So I saved your life.

So what?

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

I'm Bainsley.

And you are?

Qohen. Q, no U.

And you work with these people?

In a manner of speaking, yeah.

- What do you do?
- Us? We crunch entities.

- You got a mouse in your pocket? Heh.
- Excuse us?

But who's "we"?

Us. Ourselves.

Oh, catchy.

WOMAN: Hey, help!

You're staring at me.

You think my dress
is incredibly ugly?

Well, it's my daddy's fault.

He used to buy me these incredibly
ugly clothes to keep the boys away.

It didn't work.

Only made me wanna get naked.

And that's no way to
keep the boys away.

Excuse us.

We really must leave now.

No, wait.

Just wait.

Wait.

Did anybody ever tell you,
"Be careful what you wish for"?

- Excuse us? What's all this about?
- You're going home.

(CLOCK BELL RINGS)

Zero theorem.

All very hush-hush.

Management's been handpicking
talent since before I was hired.

Nobody lasts. It's a
guaranteed burnout project.

I worked at it for about three
weeks when I was young.

Drove me balmy.

After Zip-T, I couldn't
crunch Coco Pops.

That's why Management
made me a supervisor.

You might've noticed I'm a few raisins
short of a full scoop. Ha-ha.

That's why he chose
you, I think. Ooh.

Nothing left to lose. The tech boys
should be around at your place now,

changing the locks, setting up the
standard at-home work force security.

I've got my money on you, Quinn.

You'll be proving that
theorem in no time.

- What exactly will we be proving?
- That Management's getting desperate.

(LAUGHS)

(♪♪♪)

Have you ever wondered where all
the stuff you crunch winds up?

Voilà.

(JOBY CHUCKLES)

JOBY: Here. Put this on.

Come.

Neural Net Mancrive.

The centre of Management's
entire operation.

Smart as shit and still learning.

(IMITATING ELMER FUDD)
Now, be very, very quiet.

We're hunting entities.

(CHUCKLES)

(IN NORMAL VOICE) Working
hard, Bob, or hardly working?

Today's the same, Bob.

Don't mind me, Bob, I'm just getting
Quinn started on the old Zipster.

That's a waste of time, Bob.

I give him two weeks.

That's Bob, summer intern.

- Why does he call you Bob?
- JOBY: Oh, Bob calls everybody Bob.

He says it's a waste of brain
cells remembering names.

- He's a hardware specialist.
- Isn't he rather young for that?

No, that kid could programme
before he could walk.

(WHIRRING)

Right. Now, here's your software.

Management will send you new
data downloads every week.

How long is this
project going to take?

Don't know. It could take forever.

When I was a little tyke, everybody
thought neutrinos had no mass.

Somebody discovered
they do have mass.

Tiny little bit of mass,
but mass is mass, right?

It's got to add up to something.

That stuff used to keep me awake
at night. Not that you should worry.

Everything's under control. You
got everything you wanted.

Ever get a feeling the world's
giggling behind your back?

Everybody in the universe

is in on some cosmic joke.
Everybody but you.

The only reason you're not
laughing is you're the punchline.

- You ever get that feeling, Quinn?
- It's Qohen.

Working hard, Bob,
or hardly working?

BOB: Well, it pays the same, Bob.

Pays the same.

(CHIRPS)

LIPS: Zero currently
equals 93. 78926 percent.

Zero must equal 100 percent.

Your first instalment of processed
data is due for upload in four hours.

Good luck.

(CHIRPS)

Yeah.

Hmm.

(CHIRPS)

(BEEPING)

Yeah.

LIPS: Hello, Qohen Leth.

Your next instalment of processed
data is due for upload in one hour.

(♪♪♪)

Enter number of minutes
needed for target overrun.

(SIGHS)

(MICROWAVE BEEPS)

LIPS: Hello, Qohen Leth.
This is a courtesy call.

Zero currently equals
93. 789 percent.

Zero must equal 100 percent.

(GRUNTS)

(PHONE RINGS)

- Yeah?
- LIPS: Hello, Qohen Leth.

Your next instalment of processed
data is due for upload in one hour.

If the target timetable
is attainable, press one.

If not, enter what is
needed for target overrun.

Your next instalment of
processed data is...

(WIND HOWLING)

(ALARM BLARING)

(♪♪♪)

LIPS: Zero must equal 100 percent.

Zero must equal 100 percent.

Zero must equal 100 percent.

You seem tense, Qohen.

Let's return to the
subject of your fears.

In past sessions, you have reported
a fear of death, a fear of life,

a fear of open spaces,
closed places,

a fear of people,
a fear of being alone,

- a fear of missing certain...
- No.

We fear a great many things,
but we fear nothing most of all.

- Please go on.
- In what manner?

- Are you trying to be difficult?
- Not at all.

It seems we're capable of being
difficult without trying.

We've spoken about your fears.

Let's speak about your joys.

At present, there's very little we
can think of that brings us joy.

What brought you joy in the past?

(SIGHS)

- We recall enjoying food once.
- What was your favourite food?

That, we can't recall.

At present, we feel no joy.

What do you feel?

Nothing.

You're a tough nut to crack, Qohen.

And, of course, I don't mean
"nut" in the pejorative sense.

Let's examine...

(PHONE RINGS)

LIPS: Hello, Qohen Leth.
This is a courtesy call.

Your next instalment of processed
data is due for upload in one hour.

- What?
- If target timetable is attainable,

press one. If not, ent...

Please enter number of minutes
needed for target overruns.

One moment, please.
Management have authorised

- a 60-minute overrun.
- No, that...

- Goodbye, Mr. Leth.
- That's nothing... No.

We can finish this session
another time, Qohen.

- I think you'd better get back to work.
- These entities refuse

to remain crunched.

Each has its own meaning,
but that changes

- depending on the following.
- Qohen.

- Which then changes
- Deep breath.

- depending on the meaning of...
- Deep breath in and out.

Deep breath in...

- and out.
- All we want is our call.

Yes, your call.

We'll complete this
session another time.

(♪♪♪)

LIPS: Hello, Qohen Leth.
This is a courtesy call.

Your next instalment of
processed data is due...

Hello, Qohen Leth.
This is a courtesy call.

Your next instalment of processed
data is due for upload in one hour.

Hello, Qohen Leth.

BAINSLEY:
Are you an entity process?

Have you tried them?

You should try herbs.

I'm happy with herbs.

Way happy.

They should put them in the
drinking water. Ha-ha-ha.

Black fluoride. Ha-ha-ha.

Are you here alone?

(UPBEAT PARTY MUSIC
PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS)

We are generally everywhere alone.

I love mystery.

Turns me on.

Well, you don't know me
and I don't know you.

No.

- I'm the neighbour.
- Mm-hm.

There's always a neighbour
at this kind of party.

Care to come to my place?

We'd only disappoint you as
we have countless others.

(GASPS)

That's the best line
I've heard all night.

- Thank you.
- Mm.

We must leave now.

Hey, wait.

Wait.

Don't say no.

Just think about it.

If it's not now, some other time.

Just have to call me.

LIPS: Goodbye, Mr. Leth. Goodbye,
Mr. Leth. Goodbye, Mr. Leth.

Oh!

(GROANS)

Next instalment of processed data
is due for upload in one hour.

If the target timetable
is attainable, press one.

If not, enter what is
needed for target overrun.

Please enter the number of minutes
needed for target overrun.

Zero must equal 100 percent.

(MUMBLING)

Zero must equal 100 percent.

(BEEPING)

Go like this.

Ha-ha-ha. Sideways
walks the crab, and...

(♪♪♪)

(MUTTERING)

Ha-ha-ha, oh!

No. No.

(SIGHS)

Come on.

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

No, no, no!

(PHONE RINGS)

- What? Not now.
- LIPS: Processed data is due for upload.

Please enter number of minutes
needed for target overrun.

That timetable is not authorised.
Please enter the estimated number.

- Please enter the estimated number.
- Shut up. Shut up.

That timetable is not authorised.

(PHONE RINGING)

- Please enter the estimated number.
- I'm gonna catch them.

That timetable is not authorised.
Please enter the estimated number.

That timetable is not authorised.
Please enter the estimated number.

- No.
- SHRINK-ROM: Deep breaths, Qohen.

- Not you. No, we won't breathe!
- Deep breaths, remember?

(PHONE CONTINUES RINGING)

And you too!

No!

(INAUDIBLE)

(INTERCOM BUZZING)

Hello?

JOBY: Management says
you've got a problem.

(SIGHS)

(SHOOING)

(KNOCKING)

Quinn, you tortured little slut,
that is. Been a long time.

How are you? Still dying, I see.

- What are you doing here?
- Field work.

I love it. Gets me out of the office
into a snappy uniform. Ha, ha.

(SHOOING)

You could use a
woman's touch, Quinn.

Eh...

Ah. Management can't
get through to you.

What's the story?

At present, we have difficulty
maintaining our upload schedule.

The entities are
behaving very strangely.

Yeah.

Personnel meltdown.
I've seen plenty of it.

I'd pull you off the pitch

but Management wants to
give you another chance.

Don't ask me why.

Ooh.

Phone trouble, was it?

Tried to fix it yourself, did you?

(LAUGHS)

(♪♪♪)

Wrong tool for the job.

Ball-peen's more for hammering
out dents in sheet metal,

not for close tolerance
phone repair.

It's all about connections, Quinn.

Wires, wireless, weaving
a World Wide Web.

Can't get anything if
you're disconnected.

Voilà.

Tell you what, this manual
work's giving me a thirst.

You've not got a beer for
a working man, have you?

We have tap water.

Yum-yum.

(FLY BUZZING)

Thank you.

(SIGHS)

I miss you, Quinn.

Supervisors don't
make many friends.

- You consider us a friend?
- Yeah, of course I do.

Of course I do.

So, what's the real problem?

The zero theorem is unproveable.

(♪♪♪)

We still haven't
received our phone call.

You don't trust Management.

Nothing adds up.

No, you got it backwards. Everything
adds up to nothing, that's the point.

- What's the point?
- Exactly. What's the point of anything?

You've got a case of the
zero theorem heebie-jeebies.

Don't you think working
sucked the soul out of me?

Bet your big bald buns, it did.
I was nowhere near where you are.

You're knocking on the door, Quinn.
No wonder you're stressed.

Sit down.

Sit down.

Do you really have no
idea what you're doing?

We don't care. All we
care about is our call.

Could you inform Management we
want our call and we want it now?

Yes, yes, yes, God, talk
about tunnel vision.

You'll get your call.
You're a bundle of nerves.

You can't work like this.

You're not gonna get that call of
yours all wound up tight like this.

I've got a friend who
might be able to help.

- You said you didn't have any friends.
- Ouch, Quinn, ouch. That hurts.

It's Qohen.

Q, no U, O-H-E-N.

All right. No need to
spell it out, man.

I've got the picture.

Let Joby handle it.

(♪♪♪)

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

(INTERCOM BUZZES)

- Yes?
- BAINSLEY: Mr. Leth?

Qohen Leth?

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Surprise.

Bainsley.

I waited.

You never called.

Oh, you poor thing.

Joby's right, you need me.

You're Mr. Joby's friend?

Well, Joby doesn't
have any friends.

I feel so, so holy,

going to the chapel of love.

We prefer not to be touched.

The rent must be outrageous.

Actually, we own the building.

We bought it from an insurance
company some years ago.

There'd been extensive fire damage.

The previous occupants were
an order of monastic monks

who've sworn vows of chastity...

poverty and silence.

Apparently, no one broke
the silence to yell fire.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

And what do we have here?

Oh. Ha-ha-ha.

Goodness me.

What other surprises
do you have for me?

That was a gift from...

Shh.

(♪♪♪)

You have...

the most intriguing bone structure.

So polished.

So, so pure.

Ahh. So pure.

Hey, a mighty big hard
drive you got here.

What work do you do exactly?

Well, I shoot trouble.

Mr. Joby seemed to think

- that you might help us get our call?
- Yeah.

Yeah, he mentioned the call thing.

You're staring at me.

- We're terribly sorry.
- Ahh!

(WHIMPERING)

I just broke a nail.

- On your big, fat, stupid keyboard.
- We'll get our first aid kit.

- Would you please just kiss it.
- Excuse us?

Whenever I hurt myself,
my daddy would kiss it

and make it all better.

- Well, we fail to see how...
- Please.

You call that a kiss?

(♪♪♪)

There.

All better?

SHRINK-ROM (OVER MONITOR):
Excuse me,

couldn't help noticing this young
lady's pathological attempts

to project upon you her unresolved
issues of paternal abandonment.

Given the significant age difference
between the two of you...

Nosy bitch.

My daddy didn't abandon me.

He died.

In case you're getting
the wrong idea,

I should tell you that I
don't do sexual intercourse.

I don't care if a guy wraps
himself up like a latex mummy.

- But...
- But nothing is going inside me.

Way too dangerous.

I'm into tantric,
bio-telemetric interfacing now.

It's smart and safe.

And, God, it just
feel so super tingly.

Got anything to eat around here?

I'm starving my ass off.

(♪♪♪)

Ah. What a mess.

(FLIES BUZZING)

- You're staring at me again.
- Forgive us.

Well, I don't mind.

Just noticing, that's all.

You're a pretty intense guy.

So here you are, Qohen,

locked up all alone
and waiting for...

For what? For a phone call?

So tell me, what's
that all about? Hmm?

No, we've grown weary
explaining ourselves.

But how am I supposed to help
if you don't tell me? Hmm?

Please.

Please.

So come on.

How did it all start?

We're not quite certain.

We must confess that
for good or ill,

that we always wanted
to feel different,

unique.

Objective analysis, however, concluded
that we're as inconsequential

as anyone else.

We are but one in many
single worker bee

in a vast swarm

subject to the same imperatives
as billions of others.

We dulled our discontent
in alcohol, drugs, sex.

And then it happened.

One night...

(♪♪♪)

oh, a long time ago,

we were awakened by
the phone ringing.

We picked it up.

A voice on the other end said:

"Qohen Leth."

(SNORTS)

But before we could respond,

we felt this great
yawning maul of power

opening through the phone line.

We felt a sudden rush of joy unlike
anything we've ever felt before.

Then we knew quite clearly that
we only had to answer "yes"

and the voice would tell us
the meaning of our life.

The voice would tell us
our special calling.

The voice would give
us a reason for being.

(BREATH ES DEEPLY)

And then?

And then...

in our excitement,

we dropped the receiver,
disconnecting ourselves.

You've been waiting for
a call-back ever since?

What other reason is there
to pick up the phone?

Well, communication for one.

It's mostly unnecessary.

But that's what we're doing now.

In a manner of speaking.

So all this time, you've been
waiting for a mysterious voice

to tell you what to
do with your life.

Wow. Probably just a
cold call anyway.

If you hadn't dropped the phone,
you'd own a time share in Majorca.

Big deal. Heh.

Do you really believe
everything you've just told me?

Yes.

Okay.

Okay.

I can help you.

But don't go away.

And I'll be back in a
tail shake, all right?

(♪♪♪)

(INTERCOM BUZZING)

- Bainsley?
- BOB: Bob, buzz me in.

- Bob who?
- Bob, I have to take a wicked pee.

Buzz me in, Scotty.

Our name isn't Scotty.

I know that, Bob.

- Our name isn't Bob.
- Come on.

I'm doing the tinkle dance here.

(INTERCOM BUZZING)

(URGENT KNOCKING ON DOOR)

(♪♪♪)

Where's your bathroom?

Where's your bathroom?

It's here.

(BOB URINATING AND YELLING)

How did you get in?

BOB: Fucking magic.

Excuse my French.

Holy shit, man, I think I did some
renal damage holding it in that long.

Slim got stuck in traffic.

SLIM: Chubs drove, Bob.

Fast as I could.

- SLIM: Sign here.
- What?

A receipt of delivery.

- We're delivering...
- Bob. Assigned to help you. Sign.

Brilliant. We'll pick him
up in exactly four hours.

- Don't lose him.
- Don't lose him.

I wouldn't mess with the
clones if I were you.

They look harmless, but they'd
just as soon flame you to death.

This is a... This is a
creepy place you got here.

Are you okay?

Actually, we're dying.

For me to be with, I mean.
You're a scary looking guy, Bob.

Would you please
stop calling us Bob?

- What do you want me to call you?
- Mr. Leth.

Leth? No, no, it's too wormy.

Qohen, then. Q, no U, O-H-E-N.

Gotta buy another vowel.

- Q.
- Or Q.

Yeah, Q will do.

Q is you.

Happy now?

Why are you here?

Old man assigned me to get
you up and running again.

- The old man?
- The boss.

The Darth Vader of microprocessing.

The guy I call Daddy Dearest,
also known as Management.

- You're Management's son?
- The one and only.

Heir to his dark throne, stuck
working this summer job.

Order us a pizza.
I missed breakfast

and this is gonna take a while.

- We have oatmeal if you chose...
- If I wanted to vomit.

Order the pie, double cheese.

Fuck. Fuck. How can
you work like this?

Oh, it's fucking ridiculous.

Fuck. Fuck.

I can't stand people gawking at me.

Dad, Dad.

Bob's on the job.

(BEEPS FOUR TIMES)

BOB: That's better.

Who can work...? Who can work
with him looking over your shoulder?

We have nothing to hide.

The point is moot since we're
not working for him any longer.

Yeah, right, keep
telling yourself that.

- What do you mean?
- The old man is not done with you yet.

But we're done with him.

Like those preceding
us, we have burnt out.

- We have decided to quit.
- Smart move.

- Too bad you can't.
- What do you mean? Mr. Joby...

Joby will tell you whatever
the old man wants him to.

You're a tool. The old
man uses everybody.

That yummy night nurse chick?

- Bainsley?
- Tool.

No.

She promised to help us.
We are waiting for her.

Wait all you want. She's not
gonna be back. Your call girl,

she was paid by the hour.

We don't believe you.

So, what do you think?

This thing is years ahead
of the competition.

It works on nerve
endings, of course,

but it's also synced directly
to the brain synapses.

And Joby said it was
one of your projects.

We can't imagine.

We never thought of our project
actually having any purpose.

Top secret. I'm the
cyberspace test pilot.

But first, you have to
do something for me.

Voilà.

And one size fits all.

- Isn't it dangerous?
- Oh.

Depends on your idea of danger.

Just trust me.

Suit up, plug in, and click
on my website at midnight.

- You're going out like that?
- They can look, but they can't touch.

And don't be late.

I can't wait.

(MEN CATCALLING)

BOB: So here's the deal, Q,
straight from the old man himself.

You go back to work on
this nasty Zippity-T...

- We're no longer interested.
- And in return,

I get you your call.

You? You will get us our call?

Yes, I will get you your call. You're
not the only genius around here.

I'm downloading your Shrink-Rom
files even as we speak.

- Those sessions are private.
- Sure they are.

(INTERCOM BUZZES)

Pizza! Pizza!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Pizza.

Ooh.

Nice.

That's nice.

Uh... Where do I put it?

Hmm.

Not Just A Pizza.

So...

cash or charge?

Hey.

Thank you.

(MACHINE CHIRPS)

- What are you staring at?
- Uh, sorry. Shit. Nothing.

- Uh, um... Sorry.
- Oops. Heh-heh.

Wrong answer.

Thank you.

Hey.

Thank you.

Aaah!

Holy shit.

Oh, I think I got this hormonal
paradigm shift going on right now.

Was she looking at me funny?

We've grown accustomed to
people looking at us funny.

Yeah, but you are funny looking.

(ON RECORDING)
♪ Not Just A Pizza, yum, yum ♪ ♪

All right, I gotta run.

You can have the rest.

QOHEN: Our diet precludes pizza.

All right, well, save it.

I'll study your files, be
back first thing tomorrow.

(♪♪♪)

(LAUGHING)

- BOB: You're late.
- I'm right on time, Bob.

BOB: No excuses. Don't
let this happen again.

I'll be back, Q, you can
trust me. Let's go.

Why would we trust you?

You trusted everybody else.
Might as well trust me.

Lose the "we" thing. I can't
work with it. Too annoying.

Just ask the doc if
you don't believe me.

(♪♪♪)

(SLIM SCREAMS)

One size does not fit all.

(BLEEPING AND WHIRRING)

(KEYBOARD CLACKING)

(BLEEPING)

(KAREN SOUZA'S "CREEP"
PLAYING ON WEBSITE)

Hey.

♪ When you were here before ♪

♪ Couldn't look you in the eye ♪

♪ You're just like an angel ♪ ♪

(BEEPING)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(♪♪♪)

BAINSLEY: Like it?

I made it just for you.

The hair.

Something special

for a special guy. Heh, heh, heh.

We're not at all
sure it's quite us.

Don't be silly.

We no longer drink.

But you can do anything
you want here.

You can drink and never get drunk.

And you can eat and never get fat.

Let's forget all about hammering
out dents in sheet metal. Hoo!

Mm.

- Huh.
- Hm?

Good?

Hm?

Where is this place?

All in your mind,

or my mind.

Mm.

Do you feel this?

But it's not real.

It's better than real.

You're in your computer.
I'm in mine.

We're connected by memory
chips and fibre optics.

And we're safe here.

Just trust me.

And let's get this party started.

Ah! Oh! Ha, ha, ha.

Ooh!

(♪♪♪)

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Hey, come on.

Just come. Ha, ha, ha.

Hey. Go. Whoo!

Yah!

(LAUGHING)

Here, here.

Yeah.

(LAUGHING)

Hey?

Qohen?

Qohen?

(♪♪♪)

(GASPING)

(GRUNTS)

(♪♪♪)

Who knew?

Can we die here?

I don't think so.

I hope. You're not supposed to.

(BIRDS SQUAWKING)

Apparently, Management has assigned
his own son to get us our call.

We really think that he's far too young
to be entrusted with the responsibility

- of such an extent that...
- Oh, don't be such a wuss, Q.

Bob's a genius.

Whiz kid, super brain.

And if you don't know
that, shut up and listen.

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING
OVER SPEAKERS)

♪ Yo, you cannot
Will not help you, Q ♪

♪ We do wanna help you
Ain't it true? ♪

♪ But we won't help
you get your call ♪

♪ We will not help
you, not at all ♪

♪ Until you function
None will trust ♪

♪ First-person plural Q's are out ♪

♪ We got a plan for your sure cure
That gives you singular... ♪ ♪

(BEEPING)

How did you tamper with
our Shrink-Rom programme?

Oh, it's easy. She's a tool
too, in case you didn't notice.

Anyway, how long have you been
talking like the Queen of England?

- Longer than we can remember.
- Stop. Fuck off.

A former therapist suggested
it as a way to...

Yeah, yeah.

As a way to closer
relate to humankind.

Yeah, you keep it
up, I'm gonna hurl.

Dear old Dad says I can use
Mancom to get you your call,

as long as you keep
crunching, of course.

He's all hot on you.

We can't imagine why.

I've been wondering about that too.

I figure there can only
really be one reason.

You're the one, Q.

You are the chosen one.

You're the one the oracle said
would someday come to us.

No. My guess: The old man picked you
because you're such a work dog.

The man says mush,
you hit the harness.

You drag that sled till you drop.

You have any idea what the
zero theorem is all about?

Never seemed important.

Okay. Here's the poop, the whole
poop, and nothing but the poop.

You're trying to prove that the
universe is all for nothing.

All matter, all energy, all life,

it's just this one-time-only
Big Bang glitch.

Expanding universe will
eventually contract

into a super dense black hole.

Gravitational forces will be
so strong that everything

will get squeezed into a
point of zero dimension,

and "poof" the centre disappears.

No space, no time, no life,
no afterlife, nothing.

- Nada, zilch, zip, zero.
- Stop.

How would anyone believe
such a horrible thing?

What's so horrible? I believe it.

Nothing's perfect.
Nothing lasts forever.

It's nothing to worry about
if you really think about it.

Your father should've assigned
the zero theorem project to you.

Well, he's been trying to,
for as long as I can remember.

- But I refused to work on Zip-T.
- Why?

Well, because I'm nobody's tool.

All right, that's your job.

LIPS: Zero must equal 100 percent.

Zero must equal 100 percent.

Zero must equal 100 percent.

(DIALLING)

Thank you.

(ON RECORDING)
♪ Not Just A Pizza, yum, yum ♪ ♪

(KAREN SOUZA'S "CREEP" PLAYING)

(SIGHS)

♪ When you were here before ♪

(COMPUTER BLEEPING)

♪ Couldn't look you in the eye ♪

Hey.

♪ You're just like an angel ♪

♪ Your skin makes me cry ♪ ♪

(BEEPING)

- Don't. Don't, Qohen.
- Don't what?

- Don't use this girl.
- We have no intention...

You've built a wall. How is she to
know what she'll find inside there?

She's an emotionally damaged
girl, you're emotionally bereft.

This interruption is unacceptable.

We insist you run a
scan on your programme.

(BLEEPING)

Oh. Heh.

I'm sorry about that. Glitch fixed.

(BLEEPING)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(♪♪♪)

QOHEN:
Shouldn't the sun have set by now?

I like to keep it this way.

Yeah.

- But it's not real.
- Heh.

Who cares?

What's the matter?

Hm?

Hey, want to have some fun?

Just take us someplace else.

QOHEN: Us?

- Where?
- Wherever.

A place all your own.

All you have to do is imagine it,
and the VR programme will do the rest.

Come on, take a chance.
I'm giving you the control.

Close your eyes.

And now

picture it in your mind.

Take us someplace special.

(♪♪♪)

BAINSLEY:
Wow. Heh, heh. What an imagination.

Ooh. Where's my bikini,
Mr. Qohen Leth?

What's wrong?

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

Ah! Qohen, stop!
Just close your eyes!

- We can't!
- Qohen, stop!

Is that what's inside you?

How can you live with
that kind of emptiness?

One day at a time.

Tell me you love me.

Just tell me.

I can help you.

We can help each other.

Tell me you love me.

Just trust me, Qohen.

(♪♪♪)

Oh, yes, Bainsley.

Yes, Bainsley, yes.

Yeah, here we can love you.

No more being alone.

No more phone calls.

- No more projects.
- No. No, don't even think that.

- Don't say that.
- Here, Bainsley. We can love you here.

- We don't care about anything.
- No, Management won't allow it.

Oh, Management. He has
no control over us.

No, don't even think it. Qohen.

We can think what we want.

- If Management doesn't like it, we quit.
- No!

(GRUNTING)

(COMPUTER BLEEPING)

(WINGS FLAPPING)

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING
OVER EARPHONES)

♪ Oh, yeah ♪

QOHEN: Excuse us, Bob.

♪ Starting a chain reaction ♪ ♪

Bob!

Hey, hey, wanna keep it down?
I'm trying to think.

- How you doing with the mensicles?
- We're not precisely certain.

Yeah, well, mush on, Q. Mush on.

(PHONE RINGING)

Jesus.

Answer your fucking phone. Yeah?

Your next instalment of processed
data is due for upload in one hour.

Old man's phone doll.
Your next upload is due.

- I'm nowhere near ready.
- All right. All right.

Uh, we gotta get back
to you. All right. Bye.

(BLEEPING)

Chill, Q, don't let
tentacles get you down.

My guess is they're looking
for the least little entity.

The entity who could.

Find her and she drags
the rest behind...

Oh, there it is, Q! Don't let it
get away. I got it. I got it.

Fuck, I'm gonna start
a chain reaction.

Yeah!

(BEEPS)

What fucking luck.
What fucking luck!

That ought to keep
Mancom busy a while.

You're quite good at
this, aren't you?

I can sprint, Q, but I
can't go the distance.

If I didn't know it was impossible, I'd
say you're closing in on this thing.

Better get you your call before you
prove that nothing is calling.

Where are you going with that?

Major breakthrough. Gotta get with the
mainframe and figure out the details

so we can get this
baby flying again.

(KEYBOARD CLACKING)

(KAREN SOUZA'S "CREEP"
PLAYING ON WEBSITE)

♪ When you were here before ♪

Mm.

♪ Couldn't look you in the eye ♪

(BAINSLEY MOANING)

(KEYBOARD CLACKING AND
COMPUTER BLEEPING)

♪ You're just like an angel N

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

MAN (ON WEBSITE): Oh, yes.

- MAN: Bainsley, you are so,
- Mm.

So hot.

Isn't she, boys?

(MAN LAUGHING)

Oh, we're just being joined by a
new stud for tonight's gangbang.

Bainsley, say hi to Mr. Qohen Leth.

(MUSIC STOPS)

Hey. Hey.

Qohen.

(KEYBOARD CLACKING)

(BLEEPS)

BAINSLEY: We're connected by
memory chips and fibre optics.

This is my place.

We're safe here.

BOB: She's not gonna
be back, your call girl.

She was paid by the hour.

(BLEEPING)

(KAREN SOUZA'S "CREEP"
PLAYING ON WEBSITE)

Hey

♪ When you were here before ♪ ♪

(BUZZ)

(BLEEPING)

(QOHEN SIGHS)

(♪♪♪)

Wakey-wakey. Q. Look
what I got. I fixed it.

Check this out. Look
what I made. All right.

Prototype, soul-searching device.

What do you want?

He's a cranky bastard, ain't we?

Is this what I lost
weeks of sleep for?

Look, this call you're waiting for,

it's a figment of your imagination.

There's no such thing.

Not by phone at least.
Ask your shrink.

Yeah.

Yo, yo, yo, doc, you there?

Tell him there's no phone call.

I'm authorising you to
tell him the truth.

Come on, tell him he's delusional.

SHRINK-ROM: It's true, Qohen.

Your phone call's a delusion.
Sorry about that.

I was programmed to leave your
peculiar pathology untreated.

- BOB: All right. Thanks, babes. See you.
- But I didn't...

BOB: The truth ain't pretty, Q.

But like my old man says,
it'll set you free.

Your call ain't carried
by British telecom.

It's coming from your
soul, connect with it.

You know how everything
inside you releases energy.

This suit will pick up the data and
relay it back to Mancom's neural net.

How can you believe in the soul
if you believe in nothing?

It's called a paradox, Q.

I'm young enough to believe
all kinds of things.

Did you know...

that more than 33 different
aboriginal tribes believe

that the soul resides somewhere
in the lower digestive tract?

Absolutely true.

But here's the zinger.

None of these tribes have any
knowledge of each other's existence.

- Coincidence?
- Hm?

Coincidence?

Where do you think all these
separate peoples got such an idea?

Dysentery.

Aha. Q, you're getting
to be very funny lately.

Listen up, if you have a soul,

which I'm betting you do,

this baby will locate it

and connect you with it.

(INTERCOM BUZZING)

- Did you order pizza?
- Did you order pizza?

Can I come in?

(♪♪♪)

It's Management's son.

You know Management, don't you?

I'm so sorry.

Joby told me I could have the
VR suit if I played along.

And you just seemed just...

Well, you were lonely.

You're wrong.

We were always alone, never lonely.

Qohen, please.

Bainsley, Bob. Bob, Bainsley.

She won't be staying long.

- Hi.
- Hi.

The Hawaiian tropics chick, eh?

Marooned yourself with this guy?

Well, we expect technology
supplied the necessary enticement.

BOB: Yeah, she's like a 10.

There's no way she'd want
an old guy, Q. No of fence.

- None taken.
- But I do want him.

I think, and I'm pretty sure.

- What for?
- Heh, heh.

- There's just something about him.
- BOB: Yeah, right.

Must be the preservatives.

Hey, don't laugh at me.

Sorry.

BAINSLEY:
I know it doesn't make sense,

but I need you...
I need you to believe me.

You said you never
wanted to leave me.

That wasn't us, that
was someone else.

No, that was you, stripped
of all your fear.

A cheap preferential trick.

What are you really afraid of?

QOHEN: We accept your apology

and wish you well in all
your future endeavours.

Hoping that Management
will assign someone else

to serve as the object
of your affection.

(KEYBOARD CLACKING)

(♪♪♪)

Well...

(SIGHS)

Everything I own is
in my van outside.

I don't know where I'm going,

but will you come with me?

Jesus, Q, do it.

We're afraid it is too late.

It is time Bainsley was on her way.
We have work to do.

We'll go somewhere far away,

to a special place,

on a tropical island.

A real one.

Just come with me.

I know we connected
somehow, you know?

I know we did.

And you need me.

And I need to be needed so bad.

Just come with me.

You know we can be
together for real.

Just run away with me.

No, we can't.

(SIGHS)

Jesus Christ, Q, do you
have any heart at all?

(SIGHS)

- Hey, hey, do you need a break?
- Yeah.

We feel like a rat in a rat trap.

I've been ready to gnaw my
foot off since I got here.

Let's get out of this tomb.

- Do you mean us?
- Yeah.

- You and...
- Me and yous.

Come on. Whatever happened
to giving up that "we" shit?

Well, we've been trying.

Yeah, sure you have. Come on.
Let's go. Up. Come on.

We haven't been outside
in over a year.

What happened to you, man?

Life happened to me.

Look, life happens to
everybody, all right?

Try thinking about somebody
besides your own selves.

I'm tired. I'm stressed.

And I'm traumatised for the
rest of my poor love life

with the way you dissed that
Bainsley, who is a scabillion times

the woman that you deserve, so...

I need a break, Q,
all right? So get your...

Get your fucking head out
of your ass and follow me.

- MAN: There we are.
- BOB: Come on. Come on, let's go.

(♪♪♪)

- BOY: Penny for the guy?
- BOB: No, go. Go.

Come on. Come on, then.

Come on. Let's go. Let's go.
Come on. Come on.

Hey, wait. Wait, wait, wait.

You don't need...

You don't need skin cancer.

Right, there you go.
This is a big day.

A big day. We're going to the park.

And I got this new song
too, just for you.

Let's go.

(TECHNO MUSIC PLAYING
OVER EARPIECE)

WOMAN (OVER SPEAKER):
Good morning.

- You having fun?
- Excuse us?

Are you having a good time?

Approximately.

WOMAN: Your dreams are our
dreams. That's why we say:

"Enough is never
enough." Call us today.

BOB: Jeez. What are you doing?

- Get out of my way.
- Punks!

Fuck you. I know,
I know, I'm fucking...

MAN (OVER SPEAKERS):
...reaches out to that special you.

(♪♪♪)

They'll never get it up.

(LAUGHING)

A little tail would make that thing
more aerodynamically active.

GIRL: Ready? One, two, three.

You ever have a girlfriend?

Yeah, we had a girlfriend
when we were your age.

We spent every possible
moment with our long walks,

movies, lying in the backyard
staring up at the stars

until her parents called
her in, sent us home.

Very much in love with
her, as we recall.

What ever happened to her?

We married her, she
eventually divorced us

and we never saw her again.

Thanks for that happy,
hopeful little parable.

I can hardly wait for my
own first divorce. Heh.

- GIRL: Yeah, more, more. That's it, yeah.
- I don't know any girls my age.

Seems like getting old
would be pretty boring.

Old people, they just... They do the
same thing day after day after day.

Like listening to the same
song over and over and over.

Yeah, maybe it's a good song.

Maybe. After a while, it gets old.

- KIDS: Ah!
- Get out of here. Go.

You know, I'm 15.

I'm 15 and already tons of
stuff bores me to death.

Think about what will happen
when I get as old as you.

I'm about to crash.

I need some food.

Do us a couple of dogs, Q?

A couple of wieners for
a couple of weenies.

- Can we have some relish on ours?
- Of course. You got it.

You know, I just met her,
but I really miss Bainsley.

Must be killing you,
losing a doll like that.

Sorry, man. I'm going.

(♪♪♪)

BAINSLEY: Just come with me.

We connected.

You need me.

And I need to be needed so bad.

(BEEPING)

What's the matter? Just realising what
a jerk you were dumping Bainsley?

I'm just thinking...

Did I just hear what
I think I heard?

I told you. I've
been working on it.

That's what I like about you, man.

You're not too old a dog
to learn new tricks.

(GROANING AND GRUNTING)

- What's wrong?
- I'm just dizzy. I'm dizzy.

Just a little dizzy.

You're burning up.

Happens when I don't sleep.
Not a big deal.

- You need medical attention.
- Just get me aspirin

and run me a cool bath.

I feel better already.

I just need some sleep.

Bob?

Bob?

(GLASS SHATTERING)

(DEVICE BEEPING)

(♪♪♪)

(GRUNTING)

(DEVICE BEEPING)

(DEVICE BEEPING)

(DEVICE BEEPING)

(DEVICE BEEPING)

(PIGEON SQUAWKING)

(DEVICE RINGING)

(GRUNTS)

Unh!

(GROANING)

(♪♪♪)

(GRUNTING)

(SQUEAKING)

I... No.

I don't wanna take...

I knew nothing.

(PIGEON COOING)

(THUMPING AND BANGING)

Ow.

(GROANING)

(THUMP)

Unh!

You have made a very big mistake.

- He just needs some rest.
- Yeah.

Come on.

- I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes.
- SLIM: Here we go.

We'll be back tomorrow
for the hardware.

Don't touch anything.

We have notified your supervisor.

(GROANING)

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

(POUNDING ON DOOR)

(SQUEAKING)

(POUNDING CONTINUES)

Quinn, you bastard.

I just called by

to say thank you for getting
me fired from my job.

You're still a tool.

At least I'm not playing
patty-cake in a bathtub

with a teenage boy, you sick freak.

You have no idea what
you're talking about.

I know what I know.

I had a good job till you came
along and you fucked it up

and you fucked up Zip-T and
you fucked up poor old Bob.

Well, I'm here to say fuck you
and the entity around it all.

That's F-U-Q-U, Quinn!

- You know my name.
- I know who you are.

Leth!

Do you?

(♪♪♪)

(SIGHS)

(BEEP)

(BLEEPING)

(KEYBOARD CLACKING)

(BEEPING)

Unh!

(♪♪♪)

MANAGEMENT: I'm afraid you won't
find my son here, Mr. Leth.

He's been hospitalised.

Is he all right?

If I believed in miracles,
I'd be praying for one now.

He's not well.

My son's never been well.

I've tried to protect him, but
he's always chafed at my touch.

This morning, he stole a car
from my vintage collection.

Are you real or are
you just in my mind?

It doesn't matter at all. You're
part of the neural net now.

- So there's no answer?
- Depends on the question.

What I'm living for?

That's a good question, Mr. Leth,
posed to the entirely wrong person.

You seem to have mistaken me for
a considerably higher power.

I'm not the source of your call.
I'm not God or the devil.

I'm just a man seeking the truth.

- What truth if...?
- Turn around and look.

That's it.

Chaos encapsulated.

(CONTROLS CLICKING)

That's all there is at the end,

just as it was at the beginning.

There it is then. You've
proved the zero theorem.

Not quite. Mancom is still, as
you said, crunching the data.

Why would you want to prove
that all is for nothing?

I never said all is for nothing.
I'm a businessman, Mr. Leth.

Nothing is for nothing.

(SPEAKING IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

- What?
- There's money in ordering disorder.

Chaos pays, Mr. Leth. Chaos
comprises a rich vein of ore

that with Mancom's
muscle, will be all mine

to mine.

The saddest aspect of mankind's
need to believe in a God,

or to put it another way,
a purpose greater than this life,

is that it makes this
life meaningless.

You see, this is all just a way station
on the road to promised eternity.

The reason I chose you...

I mean, rather perversely, I admit,

is because you represent the
antithesis of my project.

A man of faith.

You see, you've persisted in
believing that a phone call

could give your life meaning.
You've waited and waited,

and as a result, you've
led a meaningless life.

I'm sorry, but I no longer
require your services.

You pervert! You devil!

You monster!

You tear me up, charge me interest.

MANAGEMENT: I'm sorry, Mr. Leth.
I no longer require your services.

I'm sorry, Mr. Leth. I no
longer require your services.

I'm sorry, Mr. Leth. I no
longer require your services.

I'm sorry, Mr. Leth. I no
longer require your services.

I'm sorry, Mr. Leth. I no
longer require your services.

I'm sorry, Mr. Leth. I no
longer require your services.

I'm sorry, Mr. Leth. I no
longer require your services.

MAN (OVER SPEAKERS): Mancom, making
sense of the good things in life.

Mancom, making sense of
the good things in life.

Mancom, making sense of
the good things in life.

Mancom, making sense of
the good things in life.

Mancom, making good
things of man life.

Man things in good...

(MAN'S VOICE GETTING DISTORTED)

Making good things...

Making...

Making man life... Making
man life... Making man life...

Making man life... Making
man life... Making man life...

(QOHEN PANTING)

(SIGHS)

Oh.

Yes, you were the wrong tool, mate.

(CLICK THEN ELECTRICITY CRACKLING)

(THUMPING AND CLANKING)

(♪♪♪)

(WHIRRING AND RUMBLING)

(♪♪♪)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(KAREN SOUZA'S "CREEP" PLAYING)

♪ When you were here before ♪

♪ Couldn't look you in the eye ♪

♪ You're just like an angel ♪

♪ Your skin makes me cry ♪

♪ You float like a feather ♪

♪ In a beautiful world ♪

♪ I wish I was special ♪

♪ You're so very special ♪

♪ But I'm a creep ♪

♪ And I'm a weirdo ♪

♪ What the hell am I doing here? ♪

♪ I don't belong here ♪

♪ I don't care if it hurts ♪

BAINSLEY: Qohen?

♪ I wanna have control ♪

BAINSLEY: Heh, heh, heh. Qohen.

♪ I want a perfect body ♪

BAINSLEY: Hey, Qohen.

♪ I want a perfect soul ♪

(BAINSLEY LAUGHS)

♪ But I'm a creep ♪

♪ I'm a weirdo ♪

♪ What the hell am I doing here? ♪

♪ I don't belong here ♪

♪ I don't belong here ♪ ♪

(BAINSLEY LAUGHS)

(♪♪♪)

(♪♪♪)

(♪♪♪)