[Majima was killing him right now, truly and honestly. Tim was dying, he couldn't handle the sheer cuteness of Majima's little flop onto the grass and his one big paw sticking pad upward into the air. Tim knelt down so that he could continue petting him; up over his head and behind his ears when he shoved his nose into his palm, then along his flank and back up under his chin.]

[The swimming paws... god. He was dead, that was it, here lies Timothy Lawrence, he died as he lived: fixated on something cute.]

We probably should. [He was still petting him, though.] You'll have to change back, though, or else you can't have anything with chocolate.

[Pause. Actually, now that he thought about it, how did that work?]

...Is chocolate only bad for you when you're all the way wolf? Or is it just not bad for you at all anymore, or, like, always bad for you?