The club’s bass beat turned up another notch, and in turn he took another sip from his drink. In front of him was a mass of people on the dance floor in a state of alcohol and narcotics-induced revelry. The DJ transitioned to the next track, yet another generic remix of a popular 90s song. Everyone in the crowd ate it up, but he was ambivalent. Is it that hard to find a good DJ? He threw back the rest of his drink and walked over to the bar to order a few shots. Seriously, what was even doing here? It’s not like he could get drunk anyway, at least not without consuming an amount of alcohol that would be fatal for most other individuals. Boredom had been the defining mark of the last few years of his life. Nothing excited him anymore, not even what had at one time been his favorite nightclub. Pulling out his phone, he thought to see if there was anything else going on that night that might be even remotely interesting. In doing so, he saw a message that had come in earlier. The booming sounds had kept him from hearing his phone when it first came in, but as he read it he couldn’t hear anything else. A smirk came across his face. The fools had finally made up their mind. No doubt they had tried to do something on their own and predictably failed, and now they needed him to save their sorry asses. It wasn’t exactly his idea of fun, but it sure as hell beat this.