There's a lot of weight to that word, "less", to which John is not blind. It's an interesting request, wanting to forget one's ill deeds. Something John wishes he could do for himself, actually. And it's all the permission he needs to try something really quite moronic.

Without hesitating, he raises his hands dramatically, palms facing the painting. In his dominant hand is the cigarette, and careful not to touch the famed portrait, he lets the smoke waft into the closet while again letting incantations slip from his mouth. These words are clearer, and despite the sinister tilt to the whispering, Dorian just might start to feel a weight being lifting, just ever so slightly at a time.

It's when the words reach their highest pitch and the feeling of shadows looming all around them is at their most intense that John stops, no dramatic finale or fanfare to it.

"Right then. Said my piece, let's see if the universe will let us get away with that one."