tushanshu | 1, video

[A pair of big brown doe eyes are peering into the camera at extreme closeup, like he's trying to dive into the lens and spot people on the other side. Finally, the eyes pull back, and the video focuses on the rest of the face to go along with the eyes. It's a teenager, with a really weird and ambivalent expression on his face. In the background are his new digs, still shiny and new and clean, and obviously a suite in the Earth sector.]

Wow, okay. This Skype connection is weird, it says I'm on but it's not giving me any user names or pings or anything. It's either broken or I'm doing it wrong, either of which is possible, I guess.

Um.

Yeah, so, I'm Stiles, I'm seventeen, I'm new here and I'm apparently dead. Or something, maybe not. Gotta love that whole hot mess. I thought the afterlife was supposed to be a bit more, you know, well-defined and concrete. ...For an ethereal possibility that's never been proven, except on bad basic cable "Reality" shows.

[Oh, the sarcasm.]

Anyway. Okay, this is a long shot, but does the town name Beacon Hills mean anything to anybody here? Maybe? Beacon Hills, California? 94166? Yes? Holla at yo hometown. ...Please?

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Yeah, this is kind of a terrible Skype knockoff. Then again, the "internet" [air quotes] is kind of a letdown here. No porn or anything, really.

...You are kidding me.

[He sounds genuinely upset about that. But but but the internet is for porn. Trekkie Monster said so!]

I wish! I mean, that's the only reason I'd even halfway believe the whole dead thing. It's like The Twilight Zone, and turtle paradise is actually turtle hell!

That. Sucks. I mean...

[And then he pauses. Blinks. Does a double take.]

Dude. Are you made out of rocks?!

[See? That's how distressing it is to hear about the internet lacking porn. He didn't even notice MAN OF ROCK talking to him.]

[He doesn't blame you, Stiles. He could be made out of lime green Jell-o, and the news would still be distressing. And Santo doesn't even have junk to fully appreciate porn with!]

Yes, yes I am. Do you need a moment to get that freakout out of your system before we get back to the real problem?

Which is porn?

[He doesn't answer for a second, just holding up one finger. If you listen carefully, you can hear the Jeopardy! music being played somewhere. Then:...]

Okay, got it. Dude made out of rocks. Taken on board.

Back to business, that totally sucks. So, what about Wikipedia? YouTube? Anything like that?

[Give him a minute now because...]

Wow, I can't believe that actually worked. I mean, usually people freak out and ask questions until I blow up and really scare them. I don't think I'll bother this time.

Yep, none of it. You pretty much only have this, and it's not even portable! You have to talk to people... face to face. Like an animal!

This place truly is hellish.

No, seriously though. At first I thought we just had a bad video connection, but everybody has to be something, right? So you're made of rocks. Which...is its own special sparkly issue and raises so many questions. But I've seen somebody turn into a giant lizard who was being mind-controlled by an evil photographer, so...

I hope you don't like TV, because yeah, no cable either. I have no idea what's happening on Law & Order: SVU anymore!

If you want a lizard guy, you should talk to my friend, Vic. He's not really giant though. Kind of scrawny, actually... Compared to me. So, what, you're used to mutants and junk?

...No internet, no TV, and I gotta get a job? Craaaaaaaaaap. This really is hell.

And, um. Not mutants exactly, no. But I know several people who have had some pretty weird things happen to them. Like, every month, it feels like.

You'd think living on the back of a badass super turtle would be a paradise or something. Nope, boredom city punctuated by moments of terror. It's a pretty good time.

Worst thing about this place, hands down.

[Of course, the mental image of Santo getting his rocks off so to speak, not the best.]

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