"Son of a delete!! Is that the time?" Stiles yelped as he saw the time.
The boy turned around and looked at his companion; irritation marring his natural good looks. "What?"
Derek sighed "Why the delete are you censoring yourself?"
The pair blinked at one another. "You just... I mean. Hmmm, were you delete around witches again?"
"Hey, that delete was delete with me. Mom warned me to leave them the delete alone."
"Okay what the delete is going on? I mean not even a delete beep; no we delete well say delete. Derek, did the censors delete curse us? Did the delete make a god delete deal with the devil?" he asked with wide eyes.
"How the delete should I know? I mean is everyone being censored, or is it just the two of us?" the werewolf growled.
Stiles snorted while shaking his head. "Besides us, who the delete has a dirty mouth?"
"Not your dad."
"Unless you really delete him off. Trust me you don't want to. Deaton is too delete Zen. I can't even get him to say delete unless it's about a donkey. Even then it is a hit or miss. Melissa?"
Derek crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow. "You've heard her curse a lot then?"
The boy opened and closed his mouth before slumping in defeat.
"That's what I thought. Scott is so limp delete he would be afraid he would be delete break a delete twig. Maybe they have had this delete up curse on them. Is there anyone you can ask?"
"Oh! Peter or... or Coach Finstock. I'll get Peter you get coach."
"Is that wise?"
Stiles huffed and shook his head. "It's a delete stupid idea. Peter scares the delete out of me, but Finstock would keep it PG-13 in front of his students. If you insult Lacrosse that should light a fire under his delete and you can see if the curse was on everyone or just us."
"Peter would figure it out and just delete, delete his own words to delete with our heads," Derek groused. He knew that his uncle's favorite delete past time was delete with people. "SON-OF-A-DELETE!!"
"What? Why the delete are you yelling all the sudden?" he asked, after jumping at the sudden yell.
"I can't even delete think about curse words. How delete up is that?"
"Are you delete me? Let me try," he said before going silent. 'Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete, Delete...' "Son of a delete. What the delete man? I can't go out like this."
Derek nodded his head. "Let's just go and ask one of them to cuss."
"Why didn't I think of that? Yes, let's go and ask the Sheriff to let out a string of delete curse words. Come on slow poke, time to sign our delete death certificates. What the delete? Could this day get any delete worse?" he asked while gripping his hair.
"What's wrong now?"
"The d--, f--- the door is stuck. Think you could open it?" Stiles asked with a forced smile.
"Delete it, move aside. It's not that hard, you just turn the handle and urk."
"What the delete, does urk mean?"
"There is nor such word. It's just a delete word. The delete sound means that the delete door is locked."
"Right, that's it. I surrender. Whoever or whatever, the delete is delete with us, you win. I'm going to sleep. Delete you very much," Stiles grumbled as he settled on the floor for a well-deserved nap.
Derek just opened and closed his mouth before shaking his head and lying next to the angry human. He wrapped his arms around him and closed his eyes. What the delete ever, they would just delete sleep until the delete who did this delete reverses it.