iNeed Love and Pork
--
"Hey," Carly said as Sam walked into the Shay's kitchen.
"What's cooking?" Sam asked, leaning over the counter.
"Spencer's sculpture mold, if you really want to know," Carly gestured at the bubbling pot that Sam was suspiciously eying up. "It's not edible," she added.
"That's a tragedy ofstarving children proportions," Sam muttered as she made for the refrigerator, "But no worries, that's why Edison invented the cheese stick."
Carly gave her best friend a bemused expression. "Thomas Edison didn't invent the cheese stick."
"Mell, he smoud hav—" Sam managed between mouthfuls.
Carly laughed. "So what's this urgent news you wanted to tell me?"
"Ugh, I nearly forgot—" Sam said.
"—Tends to happen when food is involved—"
To Carly's surprise, Sam only smiled. "Funny that you should put it like that."
"I don't like that smile. That's your manipulative smile."
Sam did her best imitation of an innocent face as she pointed to herself. "Me? Manipulative?"
"Okay, so what's going on?" Carly asked, striving for a stern tone.
"First, ankle shake."
Carly backed up against the counter. "Okay, now I'm scared."
"Relax," Sam laughed, "It's just a perfectly harmless binding contract that you can't get out of under pain of death … Oh come on, just shake already."
"Just tell me what it is we're shaking on."
"Shake." Sam's eyes narrowed.
"Only as long as it doesn't involve computers, grades, or anything else illegal."
"Shake." Sam repeated and brought up a spatula.
"Don't you threaten me with a spatula!"
"Well don't force me to threaten you with a spatula!"
"Just tell me what's going on!"
"All right, already! Geez, don't get so confrontational." Sam tossed the spatula into the sink and whistled with her fingers. "Hey, Freddie! Front and center!"
There was a slight pause before the door at the opposite end of the apartment opened and Freddie stepped in, carrying a squirming—
"Pig! Please tell me that's not a pig!" Carly exclaimed.
Freddie froze in the middle of petting the bundle with a confused expression. "Okay … it's not a pig."
"Don't lie to me!" Carly shouted.
"But—" Freddie started, but Sam stepped in and set the pig down on the ground with its leash in hand.
"Actually, the correct term is piglet." Sam said as the pig began sniffing along the carpet to Carly's foot, where it promptly sat down and made snuffling sounds up at her. "Aw, look. I think he likes you."
"His name's Pinky," Freddie supplied, large smile recovered.
"Pinky?" Sam's head twitched as she slowly looked over at iCarly's technical producer. "Pinky?"
"What's wrong with Pinky?" Freddie asked defensively.
"You named it already?" Sam asked in exasperation.
"What's wrong with naming him already?" Freddie asked.
"Because you don't name something that you intend to eat!" Carly hotly supplied.
"What?" Freddie looked over at Sam in horror. "You said that you got Pinky for a science project you and Carly were going to do!"
Sam shrugged. "And your parents told you that you weren't an accident. Big deal."
"So you do intend to—to … nutrition-alize him!" Carly folded her arms and tried not to look down as Pinky pawed at her leg and made nauseatingly cute oinking noises.
"Why else would I bring a Somalian-bred potbellied pig into your apartment?" Sam asked.
"Somalian? How did you get a Somalian pig in the first place?" Carly asked.
"Ebay." Sam said as if it were obvious. "The one website that can make any kind of miracle come true." Her eyes looked misty for a moment.
"No way. No way am I going to let an adorable little piglet live here just so you can fatten it up and eat it!" Carly shouted.
"Him. Pinky is a him." Freddie interjected. "And why can't you just keep him at your house?"
"Sorry," Sam put her hand up. "This is a dork free conversation."
"Yeah, why can't you just keep him at your house?" Carly repeated.
Sam sighed. "Because the manual said that a stable environment was best. And my mom and the word stable don't belong in the same paragraph together."
There was a quiet moment.
"He came with instructions?" Freddie broke the silence.
"Yeah, you two have a lot in common," Sam retorted.
Freddie pursed his lips and looked away, but didn't say anything.
Carly groaned, bending down to pick up Pinky. To her horror, it proceeded to snuggle. "Aww," she groaned again.
Sam smiled and patted Carly's shoulder and Pinky's head. "So it's settled then."
"No, it's not," Carly shoved Pinky into Sam's arms. "I will not be part of an ethical issue that involves food that snuggles. Besides …" she added, "It's against building regulations," lamely.
"Oh, come on Carls!" Sam started.
"Wait, wait, I'll do it!" Freddie blurted.
"Huh?" both girls turned towards him in surprise.
"Freddie—it's against building regulations," Carly repeated.
"Your mom freaked when you tried to get a hamster—Do you want to put her in the hospital?" Sam made motions with her hands at him like she was trying to communicate astrophysics using sign language.
"What she doesn't know can't hurt her." Freddie shrugged.
"Fredward Benson!" Carly exclaimed.
"Great, it's settled then." Sam shrugged as she set Pinky back on the floor. "But I'm not going to be responsible for any medical bills."
"Don't worry, it'll be fine." Freddie said in a tone that might have been a little too placating.
Sam's skeptical/suspicious look stuck for a moment. "Whatever. All this arguing is making me hungry." She made a beeline for the refrigerator. "Got any of that bacon left?"
Carly threw her hands up in exasperation. "Have you no shame?"
"Sure," Sam said as she broke off a piece of bacon with her teeth, "Lots of it."
When Sam turned back to the refrigerator, apparently preoccupied for the moment, Carly reached over for a handful of Freddie's collar and dragged him over to a corner.
"Freddie, are you crazy? You can't do this!" she whisper shouted at him.
"Sure I can," Freddie said, holding his hands up as she continued to protest, "Listen, I've got it all planned out. The longer we have Pinky around, the more likely Sam will grow too attached to him. She's not completely cold hearted after all ... we just have to give it some time."
"Hey, Carls, do you have anymore of that ham?" Sam called from the kitchen.
Carly gave Freddie a dubious look. "Just how much time do we have until Pinky's ready for Sam's skillet?"
"A couple months …" he made a vague gesture with his hands, "I think … hope."
"Well, we'll come up with something else if it doesn't look like it's working," Carly said.
"Right." Freddie nodded and smiled.
They walked back out into the living room.
"Well, I think I'll just go and take Pinky over to my apartment now," Freddie said in an exaggerated voice as he picked Pinky up and headed for the door.
"You do that," Sam frowned. She waited until the door had closed behind him. "Hey, have you noticed anything weird about our dork lately?"
"What do you mean?" Carly asked as she walked back into the kitchen.
Sam shrugged uneasily. "I don't know. Has he been volunteering to do a bunch of stuff for you lately?" She paused and then rolled her eyes. "I mean more often and more annoyingly than usual?"
Carly thought for a moment. "Nope, not really."
"What were you two talking about a second ago anyway?"
"Oh," Carly tried to nonchalantly lean against the counter, "Nothing, nothing at all."
"Uh huh." Sam looked about as convinced as she sounded. "Welp, anyway, I should probably go make sure Freddie didn't lose my pig on the way to his place."
They said goodbye and Sam stepped outside. But she came up short when she discovered a scowling Freddie waiting for her.
"Where's my pig?" she asked.
"Don't you mean, 'Where's my pig that I'm going to eat and not use in a science project like I said?'" Freddie asked.
Sam folded her arms. "So what's the deal? Why are you volunteering for this? Huh?"
"Why did you lie to me?" Freddie demanded.
"Because you wouldn't have brought him over if I hadn't?" Sam put her shoulders up as though it were obvious. "Seriously, who doubled your sensitivity pills this morning? Aw, is it that time of month already?"
Freddie folded his arms and stared back at her.
Sam shifted her feet. "So … why? I want to know."
"Because Pinky has to stay somewhere, and you know if my mom does find him and kick him out, Carly will feel guilty and take him in anyway." Freddie explained simply.
Sam smirked. "Ah, I like the way you think." She slugged him good-naturedly on the shoulder—or at least what she hoped would seem good-naturedly to him. "All right then, I'd love to stick around, but I've gotta run. Here's the stuff on what he needs to eat and whatnot." She handed him a wadded bundle of papers from her back pocket. "If you have any questions..." She loosely held up her hands as she backed away. "... Don't call. Try the Internet, NerdNet … or something …"
"Great," he said emotionlessly.
"Have fun," she tried.
But he was already walking back into his apartment.
--
AN: This is probably the funnest-to-write-thing I've done to date. At least within the top three.
