You and Alastor had been friends for a while. Alastor often had a weird habit of calling you things considered less than appropriate, but that was partially because he was from the 1930s and partially because he just loved messing with you.

One day you and Alastor were out on a stroll together. It had just rained and there were acid puddles all over the ground. You moved to give Alastor the dry parts of the sidewalk and you narrowly missed stepping in an acid puddle. Alastor watched you with amusement, tilting his head and praising you, fondly, albeit also sarcastically.

"Good boy."