He closes his eyes briefly at the reminder, but honestly? He's not in the mood to make the distinction right now. The club's closed, and no one else is around. And Scott's a whole lot easier on his vocal cords than Mr. Palin.
He gives a small shake of his head, body stiff with tension. He speaks slowly and carefully, trying to keep the pain to a minimum. "Don't know. Last night. I've gotta give him a message. Where...?" He looks around, as if to do so would conjure Scott from thin air.