"Are you su--" Clive doesn't even have time to finish that sentence before it happens. American teenage vomit all over his expensive leather shoes. Holy fucking shit. It may have even - yup, there's a little at the bottom of his pants, too. Great.

And that's all it takes for Clive's patience to take a nosedive. The smile on his face looks much more forced now, though he still manages to keep a mostly friendly tone.

"Thanks for turning your head away there. I really appreciate that." Hahahahaha... He takes Stiles's arm and starts gently leading him past the puddle of vomit to a clean section of the curb, prepared to dodge this time if he decides to have another episode.

"I think you need to sit down now."