Three years. Three years, the time loop has gone on. Three years, Bill Wilson has been stuck dying in that goddamn plane crash. Was his name Bill Wilson, or CIA? He could no longer tell.

Three years, he's had to look that stupid fucking masked man in the eyes and tell him he's a big guy. Was it masked man, or masketta man? He could no longer tell.

Three years, he's had to recite his flight plan, which listed him, his men, and Dr. Pavel here, but only one of you. Or was it Smee, Maimen, Dr. Paveleer, Button Lee, Juan Ovyou? He could no longer tell.

Yet this time, his mind had finally broken. He had been through this so many times, being forced to suffer through this plane crash with no survivors, that he had lost his grasp on reality. The concept of existence was now an illusion.

He turned his head to the skies, and asked who he was. Almost immediately, from the depths of his subconscious thought, the one part of his brain that hadn't been driven to insanity...

"I'm CIA."

Why is this scene so big for you guys?