After a terse phone call from Scott just forty minutes ago, Nathan's at The Fury hours earlier than usual, with good reason. Seems someone absconded with their latest shipment of booze, and Scott wants to know the exact amount of hooch they still have available. With good reason.
Oh, not that they don't have a goodly amount on hand - as Nathan counts off each of the bottles in the cellar, he marks it on his inventory sheet, which he'll turn in to Scott as soon as he finishes - but if something happens to the shipment tomorrow night? Getting through the weekend is going to be a challenge.
Watering down the drinks is out of the question. One of the reasons their customers keep coming back is that they know they can trust the quality of their drinks. Change that, and soon you're on a downward spiral of lost business, closed doors, and joblessness. Not to mention regular encounters with the more unsavory aspects of life in Towertown. So skimping is out of the question.
As is a change in hours, or any other solution he can come up with. Which makes him extremely glad he's not the one who has to decide these things. He'll just do what Scott tells him to. Like getting on with this inventory so Scott knows how the situation stands.
He rubs his eyes, and gets back to counting bottles.