Make way, angry papa bear comin through.
You can't find Hal.
He wasn't in his room when you came home last night to check on him and Dave, you didn't hear him come upstairs during the night (you basically have both of their footsteps memorized by now), and he wasn't in his room or anywhere else upstairs when you got up and looked around. There's no point going downstairs to look and then coming back upstairs to get dressed enough to go out and look for him if he's not there, so you quickly shove on some clothes and your sneakers before practically running down the stairs. You take some quick glances through all the back rooms, get to the front ready to dart out the door, but then there he is, passed out on the carpet near the door.
What the fuck. Why's he sleeping there? You walk over to him, start to crouch down beside him, and instantly get a strong gross-smelling whiff of alcohol amidst all the nice smelling flowers taking up the rest of the room. What the fuck? You start to shove at his shoulder to wake him and ask, but you stop as soon as you notice the big angry mark on the side of his neck.
Oh hell no.
You stand right up and head into one of the backrooms, come back out with some extra wireless speakers for the stereo system along with the remote, set them both up about a foot away from his ears, step back a bit, and yank the volume up as loud as it can go from it's previous quiet nighttime hum.