I managed to get him to sit down in a booth with an expensive drink he clearly didn't appreciate and explain that he needed to calm down. I gave him a cliff notes version of the power struggle in the night-life section of the city. But before I could get to offering suggestions, he gulped down another few hundred dollars and stood up, looking excited.
"Sounds like to me a bunch of fucking pussies who won't know what hit 'em!"
He left, and I presume went and hit them, considering how many parts they found him in the following morning.
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