“Teen Wolf”: It’s Derek Hale and He’s All “Alpha, Please.”

Welcome back to Beacon Hills, a world of infinite shirtlessness and perpetual danger! If you thought Teen Wolf would open with a little exposition and perhaps a naked man or two swimming and splashing around in a woodland pond beneath the light of a waning moon, think again. You had nine months to catch your breath. You and Stiles could have had a baby by now. It’s go time, baby!

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Isaac Lahey is in trouble. Big trouble. Super big trouble. He’s been beaten down by something — or two identical somethings! — and it looks like it might be the end of our most tortured werecub’s little puppy life. But no! Out of the shadows like some kind of Batman comes a speeding motorcycle and a hero in full leather. You think it’s Derek, probably. Or maybe Scott. But no. It’s the Batwoman, and she is a full badass. She scoops up Isaac onto her bike and tells him to hold on no matter what. She zooms through some streets and down some alleys and drives up onto walls and pulls some wheelies and slides around, but she’s not match for the two identical somethings that are chasing her. They’re Alphas, by the way. Identical Alpha twins, and when they corner Isaac and Batwoman in a warehouse, they morph their bodies together to form a gigantic fucking wolf beast. Like if the Wonder Twins were terrorists. Luckily, Batwoman has a gun that shoots lightning and that immobilizes them long enough for an escape.

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Scott is getting a tattoo because one time Tyler Posey got a tattoo without MTV’s permission and half his job is being shirtless and it’s not like Teen Wolf‘s got a CGI budget to spare and so now Scott is getting a tattoo. It’s the HRC marriage equality symbol, which is nice. Stiles isn’t feeling the body ink, not only because he thinks the design is dumb, but also because pain and blood squick him pretty hard. As soon as the tattoo needle machine starts buzzing, he just passes right the hell out.

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Scott’s tattoo doesn’t stick because he’s a werewolf and so his body heals the needle marks in a jiffy. Stiles goes, “Thank God. That was about the lamest tattoo I’ve ever seen.” (Also, though, you know Stiles has got a whole drawer full of removable Adventure Time tattoos at home. He totally fancies himself a Jake the Human.)

Meanwhile, Allison or Lydia are on their way to Expositionville. First stop: Jackson Whittemore. Where is he? “He moved to Cardiff to join an elite team of supernaturally gifted/extradimensionally handsome alien fighters helmed by an omnisexual demigod named Captain Jack.” Lydia’s doing OK. Probably she’s going to have to date those two Alpha twins to compensate for the total manness that was Jackson, but she’s hanging in there. Allison, not so much. It’s not that her mother stabbed her own self in her own chest with a kitchen knife a couple of months ago, or that she watched her grandpa puke up werewolf tar until he died in an mangled huff of oldness. What’s wrong with Allison is that she misses Scott.

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