Teen Wolf Recap – Season 1, Episode 5: The Tell

A buzzy, flickering light—horror scene at the video store! Firstly, we learn that Lydia and Jackson both have terrible taste in movies. Then while Lydia waits in the car, Jackson finds a dead body among the shelves of DVDs. But after Jackson has a dark, suspenseful moment of hiding in the store, the lurking werewolf-killer merely runs a claw gently down the wound at the back of his neck.

Derek and Scott observe the crime scene from the extremely obvious vantage point of the video store rooftop, only about two metres up and lit brightly with neon signage.

Later, in the locker room, Jackson stands in the steam SHIRTLESS and worries about the mysterious scratch on his neck. Still shirtless, he goes to his locker and freaks out when he hallucinates glowing eyes on some other shirtless guy. Then Derek shows up in a leather jacket and harasses top-naked Jackson about what he saw at the video shop. Not much is learned. Derek exits with some masterful bitchy concern about the scratch: ‘You should really get that checked out’.

Gratuitous, unrelated shot of Stiles and everybody-loves-Danny

Gratuitous, unrelated shot of Stiles and everybody-loves-Danny

Jackson is not the only one freaking out. Stiles visits Lydia and sees that she’s completely doped out and post-traumatically stressed by the video-store attack (she saw the werewolf run off into the night). Still, Stile seems pretty keen for her to seduce him, although he finally gives up on that (moved less by her complete daze and more by the way she mistakes him for Jackson). Stiles leaves, but not before he finds some candid camera werewolf vid on Lydia’s phone, which he eventually deletes.

Scott, in the meantime, has a heart-to-heart with Derek, who asks, ‘Do you want to do homework, or do you want to not die?’

That seems like an either/or fallacy to me. In any case, Derek then breaks Scott’s hand to teach him some kind of lesson.

Meanwhile, Allison is acting like some ancient 30-year-old by trying to hide her birthday—she is 17! (This is meant to be old, I think? I know the show is set in a high school but it is hard to ascertain their supposed ages with all this perfect skin and bulging muscle.) So, Scott and Allison skip school to laugh in the face of mortality by frolicking in the dappled sunshine in the woods. This makes Scott late for parent-teacher interviews, so he misses the teacher saying something douchey to his mum about his lack of a strong father authority figure.

Then we have The Adventures of Aunty Kate. First, Aunty Kate effectively buys back Allison’s forgiveness with a pretty necklace. Then she takes some random WEREWOLF HUNTER with ridiculous hair to Derek’s crumbling burnt-out mansion, where Derek is busy doing mechanical chin-ups and dusty push-ups with his shirt off.

When the WEREWOLF HUNTERS show themselves in, stupid-hair makes a lame dog joke about werewolves, and Aunty Kate belittles him. To demonstrate her superior baiting skills, she calls Derek’s sister a—wait for it—“bitch”! Derek attacks. Aunty Kate coolly Tasers him and then admires his muscles in a creepy way (entirely unlike the way we admire them in this blog. But no need to feel pervy. Although he materialises in the high school locker rooms with a disturbing frequency, Derek is of certified legal age to be admired).

Amongst all the banter and electrocution, Aunty Kate claims the WEREWOLF HUNTERS did not kill Derek’s sister (the half-body in the woods). It must have been The Alpha. But Derek looks so dejected when she mentions The Alpha that Aunty Kate realises Derek doesn’t know who The Alpha is either! She tries to gun Derek down for being a well-muscled lump of uselessness, but he makes a shirtless escape into the woods.


Aunty Kate is a badass

Aunty Kate is a badass

At some point, Stiles’s dad the Sherriff visits the vet, who acts shifty about the type of ‘animal’ the Sherriff is looking for. Then, in a dramatic final scene, a poor scapegoat mountain lion is shot in the school car park. It has beautiful eyes and sleek grey fur.



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