Mr. Friday lived for two things. To drink. And to fuck. And if anyone got in the way of either he was willing to throw hands. Funny enough, he wasn't good at fighting, but always willing. Whenever he lost, the barkeep forced him to pay a fine. "Why do you...

After arriving I double checked the time and location. No error. I was at the right place at the right time. But where was John? The front door was left open, which might've been his way of passively greeting me in, but having never been inside I chose to wait...