You don your camo gear. You slick your hair back. You apply make-up to your face. You watch a few hours of a Vietnam glorification movie marathon to make sure you got all the details down, and then you descend into the dank and musty basement to procure your weapon of obliteration. There it is, wrapped in the finest of burlap silks, awaiting your awakening into true manlyhoodness. The final remnant left from the existence of your absent father in this home. You aren't sure whether you despise him or not. Perhaps cradling this long archived weapon will bring you back into an understanding with his absent form in your sub-conscious. Does it even matter? This, right now, isn't about him. You don't owe him that. What you owe is a hot load of lead aimed at the ground level forces of a corrupt and tyrannical system which refuses to allow an essentially good, and motivated member of society to participate. You cradle the cold steel in your hands as the black warrior paint smears down your cheek. You stand, attempting to stoke the fires of rage and anguish in your heart, as you become suddenly aware of a presence behind you. You whirl around to discover a cloaked and mysterious figure standing motionless, mouth agape.
"Do not do this my son," the figure proclaims, authoritatively.
"Daddy?" you question.
"No my son, just a figure of speech, sorry, I should be more clear. I am but a figment of the imagination which has created this vast and ever branching network of parallel dimensions. I apologize for my abrupt intrusion upon your own private and violent crisis, but I must urge you to abandon this irreversible plan! There are options whose benefits far outweigh the detrimental and disturbing ramifications of such an action!"
The figure appears sincere, and paternal enough that you wish to at least hear him out, besides, you haven't even loaded your rifle yet, so blasting him away isn't exactly an option.
"You haven't actually harmed anyone yet, so listen, I'd like to offer you a universal do-over. It isn't too late for you my son, I mean, ya, you're fucked in this dimension, but there are an infinite number of other possibilities which could perhaps lead you to a modicum of sustainable peace and fulfillment. Please, put the gun down and take this gift from me: a shard of the sacred and rare Cockamono Gem. With it, you can transport yourself back to the very moment where you set in motion this horrible chain of events which lead you to contemplate taking out a bunch of well meaning, hard working officers of the law. Amongst the infinite expanse of this Umlauty inter-dimensional cause-way, there are three more such gems, if you could find them all.... well..... good luck son."