Manson wouldn't be surprised at the fact he didn't return the gesture of a handshake. Retreating his hand back, it would go to feign the combing back of hair, replaced now by a crown of horns. He busted out with laughter, with a quick set of jerks and shuffles, his legs and arms tensed for battle ending with a flick of his nose by his thumb in a fashion similar to the late Bruce Lee. Swinging his gangly arms, he ended it's motion directly infront of him, palm side up as he brought his fingers in with a "bring it" gesture. "Trust me Drake, I'll clear my schedule anytime for a chance at you again." He remained aware of the situation, usually he only manifested in this form descretely, but the occasional public appearance kept the urban legends going. The screams were a nice touch, he stole a few quick glances to his surroundings, keeping notice of the one's frozen in fear or the foolish enough to want to stay and watch this battle.<br/><br/>"You still on top of your game?!" He shrieked, lurching forward with astonishing speed, his off hand reaching out before him, gripping the angel's sword and forcing it down while his dominant hand came foward in tightly balled fist aimed directly at Drake's face.