My fantasy scene starts at A: a point where I think I'm in control of the situation, and have no idea I'm about to be murdered. Perhaps I'm coming on to the guy who's about to shoot me, using my body to get what I want -- as I always do -- and thinking it'll work on this guy, too. He plays along for a while, until he tires of the little game, and out comes his silenced .45.
I'm taken totally by surprise, genuinely shocked that anyone would dare do this to me... but I have only a moment or two for the shock to register before he starts pumping slugs through me.
I die on my feet after the second or third slug rips through me. As soon as he stops pulling the trigger, I drop like a sack of cement. Now, the guy I thought I had wrapped around my little finger takes ownership of my fresh corpse and has his way.