*heavy breathing*

All you will need is a twelve-gauge shotgun, an M84 flashbang, Sweet Baby Ray’s barbecue sauce, and a twenty-thousand-kilogram block of solid uranium 235. We must first create a diversion. This will distract the assailants such that you have an opening for tactical withdrawal. It is for this reason that we brought the barbecue sauce. Using your buff, well-toned arm, lob the barbecue sauce out the window at exactly 100 meters per second at an angle directly parallel to the outside ground. Assuming that the barbecue sauce weighs 0.56 kilograms, acceleration due to gravity is 9.81 meters per second, and initial vertical velocity is zero, the barbecue sauce should take exactly 1.11 seconds to reach the ground ignoring air resistance. This gives you exactly 1.11 seconds to escape the vicinity before the barbecue sauce lands on the ground and explodes into a lethal fireball as all nearby objects are incinerated by a common household condiment burning at six thousand degrees Celsius. A single tear escapes your eye, as you realize that you will probably never taste the sweet nectar of Sweet Baby Ray’s again. Not after the sigma variant caused the downfall of the barbecue sauce supply chain, a great regime whose unwavering glory surpassed that of the Roman Empire at its peak. But right now, more important matters are at hand. You will never forget the sacrifice that Sweet Baby Ray’s made to save your own life and entrust in your hands the future of human civilization. There is no turning back now. You must now take action and seek immediate vengeance. Carefully breach your bedroom door with the twelve-gauge shotgun and clear the outside area with an M84 flashbang. Then run towards the nearest exit, making sure to make random turns and detours to confuse the enemy, for if you do not know your next move, neither can they. Finally, once you are outside, it is time to unleash the fury of a twenty-thousand-kilogram block of solid subcritical uranium 235. With your house surrounded, it only makes sense to make one last stand for the survival of human civilization. This is what you have been preparing for. Assuming that you have not been lacking, you should easily be able to replicate the compression effects of a chemically-fueled implosion assembly nuclear weapon explosive lens with your bare hands to force the fissile uranium into supercriticality, causing an exponential growth of nuclear chain reactions that releases two hundred twenty-six billion joules of energy into the surrounding environment. But this is not a tragic case of self-sacrifice, because you took a swig of sweet baby rays before running out of the house. You will not go gentle into this good night, for souped up on the sweet nectar of God, you are now essentially a human nuclear recoilless gun. No mortal shall oppose you now, for you have ascended to a plane of existence touched by no other living man. Your opponents will not even realize what is happening before a beam of fissile material transfers five hundred kilotons worth of TNT through their chest, killing them instantly. You are above humanity now. You are a god. The entire world is at your fingertips and you can do anything you want on a whim.