"Trust me," Stiles said. "I don't have any plans to get dead." He pushed the little bite-sized pieces of what used to be his sandwich into a pile on top of the wrapper. So much for appetite. At least the curly fries were still good, if slightly cold.
He cleared his throat. "So, I work here... what are the hours and everything? Like, I know hours with a sheriff's station are weird, but... what time should I be showing up here? Check in procedures? Codes I need to know?"