Here I thought that my life couldn't possibly get stranger than FOXHOUND, but now I'm back in the land of magical dogfights, you have a backbone, and I thought it would somehow be a good idea to tell you my name.

I must be hallucinating again. That's the only rational explanation.

[Congratulations, Otacon, you're stranger than a blackops team that contains an anorexic Russian psychic, a giant Inuit shaman, a Russian cowboy, and Octopus.]