[ He actually probably would have laughed more if he started smacking his butt, but you know, Stiles is sixteen years old and there's a certain level of maturity you just can't expect from a teenage boy. He looks up at the girl and vaguely recalls her, squinting a little. ]

I'm not sure which one it was that set him off. [ A little sarcastically. ] Like five minutes ago, after being chased across the freakin' plains by hellhounds. If they go back and do something to my car, I swear to god.