Sheriff Stilinski: What're you doing here?
Stiles: What do you mean what am I doing here? What? It's a club. It's a club, we were clubbing, you know? At the club.
Sheriff Stilinski: Not exactly your type of club.
Stiles: Uh- well, dad- There's a conversation that we...
Sheriff Stilinski: You're not gay.
Stiles: I could be!
Sheriff Stilinski: Not dressed like that.
Allison Argent: Someone's not protecting him. Someone's controlling him.
Allison Argent: We're just a bunch of teenagers, we can't handle this!
Jackson: Scales. Like a fish?
Stiles: No. More like a reptile. And your claws have this liquid that paralyzes people. And you have a tail.
Jackson: I have a tail?
Stiles: Yeah, you do.
Jackson: Does it do anything?
Stiles: Not that I know of.
Jackson: Can I use it to strangle you?
Scott McCall: Dude, everyone here's a dude! I think we're in a gay club!
Stiles: [Surrounded by drag queens] Man, nothing gets past those keen werewolf senses...
Lydia Martin: So, should I call the police, or is there a non-rapist explanation for being in my yard in the middle of the night?"
Stiles: Oh my God! Oh my God! Could this get any worse?"
Jackson: [Mostly unconscious] Mmmmmmm...
Stiles: That was rhetorical!
Allison Argent: Why wouldn't I want anything that lets me be with you? Not just until the end of high school...
Scott McCall: Well, then you'd better not get into too good of a college. My grades suck.
Jackson: [chained in the prisoner transfer van] LET ME OUT! NOW!
Stiles: You know, I put those pants on you. Alright, buddy? One leg at a time. Being all up close and personal with your junk wasn't exactly a highlight of my day. So don't think this is fun for me, either. You know, we are actually doing you a favor.
Jackson: [Holds up his cuffed hands] So, this is doing me a favor?
Stiles: Yes! You're killing people... to death! Yeah! And until we figure out how to stop you, you gonna stay in here. Sorry.
[Holds up two sandwiches]
Stiles: Now, you want the ham and cheese or the turkey club?
Stiles: All right, any clue where he's going?
Scott McCall: To kill someone.
Stiles: Ah. That explains the claws, and the fangs, and all that. Good. Makes perfect sense now What? Scott, come on. I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, okay? Sarcasm is my only defense.
Danny: McCall, what are you doing here?
Scott McCall: Just seeing if you're OK. And wondering if anything weird happened to you today... Besides being paralyzed from the neck-down.