And, sure enough, Rasputin sprang into action, devouring that hotdog in a blaze of horrible unearthly clicking noises and wiggling mandibles. It was pretty dang grotesque.

Even if that girl was not delicious anymore, she gave Rasputin delicious things. Thus, this particular person was a Good Thing. Rasputin scuttled forward, batting at Amp with his forelegs in hopes that more wonderful meat-based products would magically materialize onto his head.

"Guess you're friends now," Char commented. "Easy, boy. She ain't got no more treats.