You drive your boss's smashed car home (is he even a concern at this point?) and park it right in your drive, then go inside to wait for your attacker to come meet his fate. You're so confident about your victory that you even order a pizza while you wait. You've been sitting there, doing nothing but polishing your gun, when you hear a car door slam outside. You rush to the door; as soon as you hear footsteps on the stoop you swing open the door and open fire.
The delivery person manages to hold your pizza even as they're falling into a heap, headless. "Oh, shit," you say, "Oh, shit. You're getting a great tip." You kneel down to check the headless person for a pulse. "I'm so sorry," you say, not finding one, "are you okay?" Of course, they're not. You're so distracted that you barely heard the sound of a pistol being cocked. You look up just in time to see a small plume of flame erupt from the pistol of your enemy's weapon.