Oh crap, need more ammo! I'd better go to Mikhail's house and take the expensive sports car that he leaves open in the driveway, and go top-speed to the gun shop, smashing the car into a wall and turning it into a wreck, then one millisecond later flying out the window, screaming and swearing with a Russian accent, landing right in front of the door. Then, get up unscathed after flying through the air 60 feet and smashing into a garbage bin, clean the dust off my suit, and go into the shop to buy ridiculous amounts of ammo for the pistol I rarely use.
All in a day's work. Oh yeah.