*Ano Doom is doing something almost strangely out of character for him...Sitting down...at a desk...Writting on paper with a pencil...He is leaned slightly over it...His massive frame easily covers whatever it may be. As he writes...with his other hand...He slams a fist into the table over and over and over...on fire as usual. Then he backs the chair up just enough to see what it says.*
*Its actually...Shockingly, remarkably, unbelievably neat and pristine looking for Ano Doom's handwriting...If one didn't just watch him...they'd think he didn't actually write it down himself. Next, he takes the pencil and inverts it, erasing every single trace of "Jackson Smith" on the paper. Then he snaps the pencil to several pieces with one squeeze, rips and rips the paper over and over to nothing, balling and shredding it at the same time, then gets up and starts forearming the table to pieces, until its wooden chunks at his feet.*
Ano Doom: Heed that metaphor, Jackson. But its when I say, Remember that.
OOC: Vintage Ano Doom!