Alright, the man said he had seen you before, and that he knew you, so if you can think of where you've seen him, maybe you can find him before he finds you. You think back, trying to recall that face, and something comes to you; about a week and a half ago, that man knocked on your door and asked to borrow a cup of sugar. That's right; he's your neighbor. You go home and consider which house must be his. One is covered with flowers and signs proclaiming things like, "welcome spring," while the other is decorated with tires and rebel flags. You take a guess and point your gun at the door of the second house.
A few minutes go by and somebody taps on your shoulder. "Yeah?" you say, not taking your eyes off the sights.
"Are you trying to kill me?" says the voice from your shoulder.
You look up and see exactly the man you were hoping to kill. "No," you say, "no way; that would be crazy."
"It's that house," he says, indicating the other. Then he shoots you with his pistol. It's a head shot, and he's pretty close, so you're pretty dead.