"Quark!" In an alarming flash of teeth, the beast catches the keys in its mouth and crunches them down, tail wagging in pleasure at the offering. Few people are nice enough to give it treats upon first meeting.

"Don't feed him; you'll only encourage him to pester you," Jennifer advises, casually leaning against the counter so she can watch the action. She could call the beast off, but Peter's been a prat. More to the point, she's not sure the beast would listen if it thinks more keys are forthcoming. Apparently, it does: it steps forward and glances hopefully from Peter's face to the wall of keys again.