There was something disturbingly familiar about the note on the plane. The handwriting was all pretty curves.
<[the note reads] "You're in a movie, Bill."
The truth was like a fire heating my brain. Subtitles floating in the air, glimpsed out of the corner of my eye. The repetitious act of shooting men before throwing them out of a plane, time slowing down to show off my power stance. The paranoid feeling of someone watching my every step. I was in a movie.
Funny as Hell, it was the most horrible thing I could think of.