It's 1955. You work at an apartment complex, and as per the new law, you have to thoroughly examine people because there's been a recent outbreak of doppelgängers. Francis Mosses, a milkman, was outside the window, staring at you. It was very obviously a doppelgänger, as you know what Francis looks like, and this person looks slightly different. You already denied him, and blood was oozing onto his face. He slams his fist against the window.

"Last chance."