The Granbull stalks closer and closer, long ribbons of drool plopping down on the concrete steps. When its jaws come within snapping range of Wrath's perfectly edible clawless hands, the huge nose suddenly presses against his side and starts snuffling in search of treats.

Ralph, meanwhile, has a very short aneurysm. Okay, great, they're palls.

"Let's go, let's gooooo." He steps around the big purple dog and makes for the door that Wrath opened for them.