After the death of his wife, Malcom Donald spent the rest of his days as an increasingly anti-social, bitter person. The world felt darker, emptier, and far too much to handle without her around. He grew old alone, angry at the world, jealous of how others could laugh and feel happiness in the little moments of each day. When he finally felt like it was his time to pass, he managed to find some semblance of peace. If nothing else, at least now he would get to see his wife again in whatever afterlife awaited him, after so long.

So when he found himself surprisingly lucid, alert, and bound to an immobile sphere while still completely and utterly alone, he was understandably a little bit upset. There was no speech with the Gods as he was whisked away to a new world, there was no revelation of purpose to drive him to some greater goal, not even an acknowledgement of what had been done to him without his permission. He's determined to get his answers, though, one way or another. If he has to raise hell to get the attention of a God to do it, that's what he's going to do. Someone, something, decided that they wanted to get in the way of the last thing he had been looking forward to in his life. He intends to see they regret that decision. Thoroughly.