Scott leans against the wall, arms folded over his chest, while Jensen looks over the body. HIs eyebrow goes up a little as he watches, but that's about it.
"We obviously have to work out who we pissed off and why this man was dumped here, but we've got a more immediate problem," he points out, levelly. He's not bothered by the blood. He's not squeamish. He is bothered, though. He doesn't like trouble landing on his doorstep. "We have to get this stiff out of here before the club opens - or someone comes looking. We can decipher the message after."