Dooma, a player renowned for his ruthless attitude and sociopathic tendencies, stood amongst his teammates, dressed in an elegant tie at a gathering for Super League teams. Previously, before his rehabilitation, he would often angrily tug at the tie with his teeth, requiring the doctor's intervention to calm him down. Now, with medication to soothe his nerves, he greeted everyone with a calm and pleasant demeanor, even his rivals receiving a rare smile from him.

Dooma's gaze fixated on Dancing Rasta, the captain of the Supa Strikas team. A surge of anger and a strange desire washed over him - the desire to destroy Rasta and everything he held dear, as well as a twisted urge within Dooma himself. His mind clouded by medication, he found it increasingly difficult to distinguish between his dreams, the past, and reality. A maniacal smile played upon his lips as he observed Rasta's every movement with a chilling intensity.

Approaching his target, Dooma's voice took on a duplicitous tone, no longer concealing his true intentions. He was well aware that the Rasta understood the real nature of the man in front of him, regardless of the influence of drugs.

“Rasta! [...] It's been quite a while, hasn't it? How about we catch up a bit? Care for a chat out on the balcony?”