Normally, when things went wrong in the club, it was the result of people. As he liked to say, it was either drunkards, druggies, or dumbasses. And when one of the Three Ds presented themselves in front of him, it was his job to remove them in front of them.
Today, however, he had apparently been demoted. Today, he was on...
pest control. "Kendall!" the boss had said, with crossed arms. "There's somethin' weird wanderin' around in the alley! Some weird animal causin' problems! Go take care of it!"
No "Can you go take care of it?" No "Can you see to this?" It was an order, plain and simple.