OK, I'll fix it for you.
You walk into a restaurant. It's the only restaurant in town - indeed, your only available source of food at all. It has a menu of one dish only, changing every four years. It's been hot dogs for the past four years. Not your favorite, but tolerable.
A sign posted on the door says that the menu should be determined by the will of the customers, and broadly describes a process for them to express their preference. In practice, two factions of chefs have emerged. They each consult with their own set of customers about proposed menus, and narrow them down to two final options. For some reason, Team Hamburger wants to put poison in the hamburgers, and their customers agree.
You sit down for a nice hot dog and say to your friend, "Not only do I think pizza tastes better, I think it would stand a better chance of averting a mass hamburger poisoning. We could change our minds about trying for hot dogs again." Your friend retorts, "We are already committed to hot dogs. Stop talking about pizza. Pizza is impossible. It's not going to happen. And frankly, that kind of talk makes you sound like you want poisoned hamburgers. You don't want poisoned hamburgers, do you?"
A week later, pizza happens. Does your friend owe you an apology?
I use the construction "Chekhov's whatever" all the time to signify "something has been introduced so it will come up again later." It's a meme now. It has outgrown the gun.