Heat of the moment
You honestly cannot believe this.
How is everything suddenly falling apart around you, and how are you supposed to hold it all up. You may be a man of many talents, but even you have your limits. With Stitch being one of the only other respected members in this motley crew of imbeciles, without him you have no idea how badly your reputation will go down the shitter.
Sighing heavily, you slam your laptop closed and stand. Of course you have to take care of everything in the end, you're not quite sure why you thought to expect any differently. You pull on your gloves and forgo your coat as you leave your office, making the short trip down the hall and to where the no doubt drunk tailor will be.
You knock twice, but enter, anyway, deciding that confronting him in person would be the best way to deal with this. Like always, though, you have your pistol tucked away in its holster. Just in case.
"Stitch. We need to have a proper talk."
