These are my own favorite FML moments. Just decided to make poor Carly, Sam, and Freddie live through them. :] HAHA! Ahem. Yeah. This takes place in the future by the way. The golden trio are all 27. Here ya go.

-Chapter One-
-iCake-
-Sam's POV-

It's no secret that I love ham, meat, tacos, and, well, anything that rots your teeth to the core. That's probably why I, Sam Puckett, age 27, work at the local bakery as a cake decorator. Yeah, fascinating work isn't it. I also answer the phones when someone calls in for an order and I have to say our really cheesy catchphrase—"Hello, this is Samantha at Schneider's Bakery, if you can dream it, you can eat it!" Yeah, stupid. I suggested a better one, but apparently this one's here to stay.

Anyway, today the phone rang just as I was putting out a fabulous birthday cake. Trust me, it was amazing. I was so proud of myself and dying to eat it. But the phone rang so I answered with that cheesy catchphrase and a smile ("Smile! They can hear it in your voice," says my boss, Dan). "Hello, this is Samantha at Schneider's Bakery, if you can dream it, you can eat it!"

"Hello, I would like to request a wedding cake for me and my beautiful new fiancée," said a man. I heard giggling after he said 'beautiful new fiancée'. Yeah, lady, grow up. "It has to be cheesecake, and with vanilla frosting. I don't care what's on it. It just has to look beautiful."

"Alright, can I have you pick it up around three this afternoon?" I asked, scribbling down his order.

"Sure," he said. "Thanks a lot. Before I forget, can I have our wedding date on it?" He told me what the date was and I added that. Finally, we hung up, and I got started.

Jerris, our chef, brought out the cheesecake I asked for and I got started—I threw on some vanilla frosting, and got out my decorating tools. I had red frosting for details, and made a rose in the middle of the cake. This better not be a big wedding for what this man was asking for. I also added the date, and a 'rope' for decoration. I also threw on some bows, too.

I stood back and admired my work. Making this cake kind of hit me hard. Three years ago Freddie and I were engaged—hard to believe, I know—and I had looked beautiful. I was wearing a beautiful wedding dress designed especially for me by Tureen, who was now a famous fashion designer. Valerie, despite being jealous of me and Freddie, helped me with my makeup and hair. I felt like a model.

We had planned a private wedding, only the closest family and friends, and decided to spring for a big wedding once we settled down a bit.

After one hour I thought maybe he was running late. Three people had left.

After two hours I thought maybe the bus had broken down. Seven more people left.

After five hours I thought maybe the bus went to the wrong city. Only my mom and Melanie were left.

After the reception would have been over for an hour I thought maybe he never got on that bus at all. No one was left, other than me.

The bell rang in the shop. I looked up and saw a man, around thirty at the oldest, and his stunning bride. She was beautiful.

They looked at the cake. "Wow, this is beautiful," the woman said.

"I tried not to eat it," I said, half-joking, half-serious.

The man slapped his credit card on the counter. I took it and ran it through the computer. Suddenly I looked down at the card. The picture was so familiar, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. But then I noticed the name on the card. "Fredward Benson." I was in shock. Okay, there was no way this was my Freddie. The machine denied his card.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it denied your card," I said after running it through again. The woman got her credit card out of a Gucci and Gabana purse—spoiled, no doubt, by this Benson guy—and put it on the counter. "Carly Shay." Okay, so maybe it was my Freddie.

It worked. I wanted it to be denied.

I gave the cake to them, and just as they were about to leave, I called, sarcastically, "Thanks for inviting me to your wedding, Fredward."

He turned around. "Sam?"

At that point, I was flipping him off.

Guess who was almost fired that day.

Real FML:
"Today, at my job as a cake decorator in a bakery, I put the finishing touches on the wedding cake of the man who left me at the altar 3 years ago. FML"

Hope you liked it!