I have a son. His name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but we call him Stiles. I remember. When Stiles was a little kid, he couldn't say his first name. I'm not sure why, it pretty much rolls off the tongue, but the closest he could was mischief. His mother called him that until...I remember when Stiles first got his jeep. It belonged to his mother. She wanted him to have it. The first time he took a spin behind the wheel, he went straight into a ditch. I gave him his first roll of duct tape that day. He was always getting into trouble, but he always had a good heart, always. We're here tonight because my goofball son because he decided to drag Scott, his greatest friend in the world, into the woods to see a dead body.
Malia: Alright. I'll ask. Who's Kate Argent? Kira: [raising hand] Uh, I'd like to know, too. Stiles: Well, we were at her funeral, so I'd like to know how she got out from a casket buried six feet under ground.