Answer politely.

Taking a long, deep breath, you try to maintain some level of calm as you swing the door open. Standing calmly in front of your door, clutching a briefcase, is a professionally-dressed man in an expensive-looking suit. He looks, at best, very out of place in your run-down complex.

"Look," you grumble between gritted teeth, "this is very early for me. I was asleep. If you're selling something, I'm not interested. If you're selling your god, I'm really not interested. Now, do you have anything else to say before I go back to bed?"

The man looks you up and down impassively, as if appraising you, before he speaks. "Are you Noah Rossum?"