[ When Stiles snaps awake, he's not in his bed like he remembered. He'd done his usual nightly routine--skype Scott till eleven, play an RPG until one and pass out dead until the morning for school. Oh no. Fate is awful to Stiles Stilinski, and Stiles Stilinski wakes up in the middle of a pool, spluttering and gasping for air, the wall unit catching the video of it all.
He looks around wildly, startled, brown eyes blown comically huge as he manages to get his bearings and tread water as the whole situation settles itself in his mind, and slowly, his brows come down and his mouth drops open. ]
This?! Is not funny!
[ Emphatic arm splashing. ]
For all you know I have pool trauma from that nightmare! [ And he's at least trying to get to the side now. Stiles' grumbling and yelling is easily caught on the communicator. ] Look, I get it. Apparently Most Kidnappable in Beacon Hills, but dude, throwing me in a pool for added shits and giggles?! Is kind of screwed up! So let's just get this out of the way, okay?
No, I don't know anything, and even if I did, I am pret-ty sure I would never actually tell you, woe is me, blah blah. So maybe you can come out here and kick my ass--a couple times instead of taking some kind of--dramatically ironic hilarity out of the farce of my life and we could all just move on our way, that'd be--hrrgh--swell.
[ That noise is the sound of Stiles lifting himself, sopping wet and obviously irritated, up onto the poolside. ]
And if there's a paralytic lizard douchebag waiting to swipe me up there, I swear to everything that is holy in this frickin world--[ And he grumbles and starts wringing out his hoodie. Nice to meet you, Wonderland. ]