A desperate croak escaped Freddie's mouth as he stuck his tongue out for what must have been the fiftieth time. For the past five minutes, he had been using Carly's mouthwash, constantly swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out, examining his tongue, and taking another large gulp. No matter how hard he tried to clean his mouth with it though, whenever Freddie poked out his tongue, it always appeared blue.

"Argh!" Freddie then cried when he realized he had finished off the mouthwash. Storming out of the washroom and into the iCarly studio, he pointed an accusing finger at Sam. "You!" he bellowed to the blonde girl who said casually on a beanbag.

"Yes, me," she responded without looking at him. "Me Sam, you Freddie, understand the difference Freddork?" When he didn't respond, Sam lifted her flashing eyes up just enough to meet his own livid ones. A wicked grin spread as smoothly across her face as butter, asking, "Care for some more jellybeans?"

Freddie's mouth dropped in shock. "Of course I don't want any more jellybeans!" he cried, "It was those stupid things that dyed my tongue blue. What the hell are in those things?"

Sam scoffed. "What do you think? Blue dye, clearly; I found them at some old magic shop. They were on sale, which probably meant they were expired or something."

Feeling like he was going to be sick, Freddie had to turn himself away from Sam. She was evil, pure evil! There was no way Freddie would be able to hide his tongue from his mom, who was sure to freak no matter how he tried to explain it. Freddie's stomach grumbled, filled with old, tongue-dyed jellybeans. He should have known to be suspicious when Sam refused to eat any of them herself.

"Well aren't you going to apologize," Freddie asked lamely. He glared at her before realizing she was no longer looking at him. Sam had turned her eyes back to the cell phone in her hands which were typing out something frantically. At a second glance, Freddie suddenly realized that it was his phone.

Just as the realization smacked him right in the face, Sam said darkly, "Would you like to hear the text message you're about to send to Connor McDuggan?" Her notorious smirk began to crawl across her face which was never a good sign.

Freddie daringly took a step towards Sam, but her eyes snapped up at him, warning him to stop. "Connor McDuggan?" Freddie repeated the name of the 6'6" beast who would gladly beat up anyone for no reason at all.

"Dear Connor," Sam read the text aloud, "just a question. Why do you have bigger tits than your girlfriend? Call me! Love, Freddie."

Freddie felt his face pale. "You cannot send that," he cried. "Connor will murder me if he gets that text, or worse, my mom will get the bill for that text and then she'll murder me!"

Sam rolled her eyes. How pathetic was Freddie for caring more about a lousy phone bill than his life. "Well," Sam sighed, "it is summer. It's not like you'll run into Connor as long as you stay indoors for the next month, although I can't make any promises when September creeps around…"

There was a sudden roar, starling Sam to look up from the phone in her hands. She only just caught a glimpse of Freddie as he tackled her. The two of them flew off the beanbag and skid across the floor of the studio, Freddie landing on top of Sam. "Give back my phone!" he cried as he reached for Sam's outstretched hand and snatched his phone back – almost too easily, Freddie thought for a moment.

Freddie, who had practically been having a heart attack at the thought of that text being sent, suddenly froze as he looked at his phone. His fear was immediately replaced by confusion because there was no text. After a moment, he asked slowly, "Sam… you do realize the phone isn't even on, right?"

"Yup."

"Was there even ever a text message?"

"Nope."

"So you just said you were going to send Connor that text because…"

"Hey," Sam snapped, "I don't need to explain my actions to you. I never need a reason to do anything."

Dropping the phone, Freddie exhaled very slowly, too embarrassed with his overreaction to move very far. He closed his eyes while asking, "Why the hell do you insist on doing this to me every day, Sam? You're childish teasing never does anything productive. It just slows the whole day down and irritates everyone else who has to listen to you. It never gets us anywhere!"

There was a short moment before Sam responded. Her eyebrows arched slightly as she said in a soft, slow voice, "Well, look where it got us this time." She cocked her head and waited for Freddie to look back at her. It was only then that Freddie remembered Sam was still below him. He felt his face redden, but before he could jump off of her, Sam scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at him in that immature-Sam way. It was small and pink and stopped just before Freddie's lips.

He couldn't move, he couldn't even breathe. Just as Freddie considered opening his mouth to say something, Sam screamed "Now get off of me you fat dolt!" Sam suddenly slammed her knees up into Freddie's stomach and shoved him off of her. He let out a muffled groan of pain as he landed on the floor, clutching now-bruised, jellybean-filled stomach.

God he hated her – and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

The door to the Shay apartment burst open and Spencer could just make the moving flash as Carly as she sprinted towards the fridge. Carly stopped from hitting the fridge just in time, opening it up and staring inside with wide, fearful eyes. "I'm sorry… I'm late…" she gaped for air, "Sam… the fridge… it's… it's… perfect?"

Spencer rose to his feet and arched an eyebrow at his sister. "Are you extremely hungry or something?" he asked her.

"No," Carly cried, still in disbelief that the fridge was the exact same as she had left it. "I'm late for iCarly rehearsals and I thought that, with nothing to do, Sam would have attacked the fridge or something and - we don't have a pet hamster?" Carly's focus suddenly shifted 180 degrees at the sight of the hamster walking across a large canvas. It was white and puffy and left purple footprints wherever it stepped.

Spencer followed her gaze, almost forgetting about the fluffy thing himself. "Oh, you're right, we don't own a hamster, but my friend Socko does. Carly this is Sheldon, Sheldon this is Carly."

Skeptical, Carly took a step towards Spencer's latest art project. "Let me guess," she said, "you're going to paint Sheldon's feet and then let him walk across the canvas so that he leaves rainbow footprints wherever he goes?"

"Exactly!" Spencer cried, "Hamster footprints everywhere, all the colors of the rainbow – except for peawee green. God, that color just reminds me of puke every time."

"Ew, I know," Carly agreed, "good thing you eliminated that color." After watching Sheldon for a moment longer, Carly let out a sigh. "Well I guess I don't have to worry about Sam raiding the fridge; instead I'll have to worry about Sheldon getting magenta on the carpet. I wonder why Sam's not hungry," Carly added. She had said it aloud more for herself, but when Spencer heard, he quickly turned to her.

"Please, Sam's always hungry," he pointed out the obvious. "She was just too busy upstairs because Freddie's with her." Spencer grinned at his sister, raising his eyebrows up and down dramatically.

Carly started to gag. "Spencer, don't even go there. If anything, Sam's busy stapling Freddie to the wall or something. I should probably go and make sure he's still breathing."

Spencer shrugged carelessly. "You're probably right," he agreed, "but we both know what's going on between them." This caused Carly to stop in her tracks, and her hiccup caused Spencer's eyes to bulge. "Oh come on! You can't tell me you haven't noticed Sam and Freddie and Freddie and Sam. It's so obvious they have a little you-know-what for each other?"

"You mean a crush?" Carly asked him. The word tasted bitter on Carly's tongue.

"Well if that's what you kids call it today," Spencer said before pausing. "No wait, you're right; they are crushing on each other. But seriously Carly, please tell me you've noticed this."

Swallowing nervously, Carly nodded. "Of course I noticed," she said tensely, casually making her way up the stairs, "I am their best friend after all. But being their best friend, I also know that this is just a phase. It's going to pass."

"How do you know that?"

Carly thought about this for a moment before her eyes suddenly grew to the size of saucers. Letting out a scream, she pointed and yelled, "Quick Spencer! Sheldon's getting away!"

Spencer's muscles tensed as he whipped himself around. "Crap," he yelled, thinking he would have to spend the next hour following purple footprints after a puff of a hamster. Looking down though, he realized that Sheldon had not moved from the canvas. In fact, the hamster had curled up into a tiny ball and fallen asleep, smearing paint on his snowy coat. Spencer frowned at this before turning back around to confront his sister. By the time he had though, Carly had already bolted up the stairs.