Freddie grins at the reader and lifts up a giant stainless steel cover. Underneath it, on a huge white platter, is Gibby, who is covered in marinara sauce and shredded cheese.

"Gibbeh! It's what's fo' dinnah!"

My Pants

Sam has stolen Freddie's pants, and the poor boy has to go through the entire school day without them. But at least things can't get any worse, right? Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

"Wow Freddie," Jessica said, her eyes traveling up and down the Benson boy's figure.

"Thanks Jess," Freddie replied. He smiled at her, as well as the rest of the large mob of girls that was currently surrounding him. Though Freddie was of the humbler sort, he couldn't help but feel a teeny stab of pride at all the females who were complimenting his appearance.

"So you got them from Tween Pants dot com?" asked Molly, a strawberry blonde.

"Sure did," Freddie said. He pulled out the fabric on the side of his pant-leg to emphasize.

"Oh my God you're so cool Freddie Benson!" Molly exclaimed, jumping up and down. "Only real men buy their pants from Tween Pants dot com!" Freddie's smile inverted.

"But they just started selling guys' pants."

"I know, that's what makes you a real man!" Molly said. Freddie had to scratch his head at this. It didn't entirely make sense to him, but he supposed there were still mysteries to the female mind he had yet to uncover.

"So when's the next episode of iCarly?" asked Vanessa.

"Are you going to make an appearance?" asked Julie.

"Can you show us your camera?" asked Jessica.

The girls' questions were cut off by the warning bell, which meant that classes would begin in five minutes. Freddie held up his hands to silence his audience.

"Okay ladies, I really have to get to class now." All four girls groaned in unison. Vanessa however took it one step further and latched herself around Freddie's right arm.

"Vanessa!" Julie squeaked. She stomped over to her friend and flicked her hard on the forehead. "We don't grab people!" Julie pried Vanessa from Freddie's arm. The four friends began walking down the hall, arguing in high-pitched voices amongst one another.

"Uh, see ya later," Freddie called after them. He immediately regretted doing this.

"Bye Freddie!" they all squealed.

"Call me," said Jessica.

"Text me," said Julie.

"Tweet me," said Molly.

"Email me," said Vanessa. The other three gave Vanessa withering glares.

"Email?" shouted one of the girls, and they were all quickly embroiled in another fierce argument.

Freddie shook his head as he opened his locker. He supposed he should have been happy, given all the feminine attention, but sometimes it wore on his nerves.

Especially considering they were first-graders.

Freddie was digging around inside his locker, trying to find his environmental science book for first period, when he felt a pair of strong arms encircle his stomach. Freddie stood up straight and sighed.

"Vanessa, you can't just grab me whenev–"

"MY PANTS!"

Freddie froze for a minute. That wasn't Vanessa's voice. He craned his neck to the left. There, a little above his waistline, was a familiar mane of bushy blond hair.

"Sam?" Freddie squeaked.

"MY PANTS!" Sam repeated. To Freddie's tremendous surprise, she knocked him down and started viciously removing his pants.

"Sam stop it!" Freddie cried. He struggled with all his might to free himself from Sam's clutches, but the blonde was simply too strong for him. When he tried to sit up, Sam pushed him by the chest and sent him back to the floor. She unsheathed one leg and continued working on the other, screaming whenever Freddie tried to say anything. She had a deranged, almost murderous look about her, which Freddie found very disturbing.

Freddie was just about to give up when he saw Gibby, who was licking a strawberry lollipop, walk by.

"Gibby!" Freddie hollered. He tried desperately to pluck Sam's fingers from his jeans. "Gibby help!"

Gibby stopped licking his lolly and looked at Freddie. His eyes quickly bulged.

"Oh my God." Gibby pointed at Freddie. "Are those from Tween pants dot com?"

"That's not the issue!" Freddie screeched. He gestured towards the rampaging blonde who was assaulting him. "That's the issue!"

"Don't be a whiner Benson," Gibby said. He resumed licking his lolly "She's just playing around."

"No she's not!" Freddie and Sam rolled around on the floor. "Ow!"

"MY PANTS!" With one last, almighty heave, Sam finally liberated Freddie's beleaguered pants. To Freddie's horror, she then began putting them on.

"What are you doing?"

Once she had her feet through the legs, Sam pulled Freddie's jeans up to her hips, zipped up the fly, and did the button. She then stomped away, resembling an animal that had just successfully defended its territory. Sam disappeared down the hallway without another word.

"Aww, I think she likes you," Gibby said.

Understandably, his run-in with Sam put Freddie in a very bad mood. As the day wore on, his disposition would only worsen.

"Freddie Benson, where are your pants?" Mr. Henning asked. Freddie had just entered three minutes late to his first period environmental science class. Everyone else was already in their seats, and it was quite obvious from this vantage point that Freddie was in fact not wearing any pants.

"Oh I don't know," Freddie said in a harsh, sarcastic voice. He walked past Gibby, who was still licking his lollipop. Freddie suddenly smacked it out of Gibby's hand. "Maybe somebody STOLE THEM!"

"Now who would steal a pair of pants?" Mr. Henning chuckled. Freddie's gaze immediately shot across the room. He spotted Carly, and next to Carly was Sam, who was leering at Freddie's orange boxers with delight.

"Why don't you ask Sam?" Freddie shot a finger at said person.

"Oh come on Freddie, Sam didn't steal your pants," Carly said. Sam meanwhile was pounding the tabletop in silent laughter.

"YES SHE DID!"

"Alright Mr. Benson, that's enough," Mr. Henning said. "I don't like yelling in my class, and I don't appreciate it when students are inappropriately dressed."

"But Sam stole my pants, I swear!" Freddie looked at Gibby. "Gibby was there. Gibby, tell them what happened."

"Calm down Freddie," Gibby said. "Sam didn't take your pants."

"Yes she – what are you talking about, you were there!"

"Mr. Benson, I want you to leave this class, and I don't want you to return until you put on some pants."

Freddie pushed Gibby off his stool and stormed out of the room.

"Alright everyone, I want you to put your notes away, it's time for a pop quiz." All the students in Miss Felter's third period composition class placed their items underneath their desks as their teacher walked down the first row and handed several sheets for them to pass down.

Freddie's blood pressure was steadily rising. Mr. Henning wouldn't let him back in the science lab, and he was kicked out of his American history class when he had been discovered pantsless as well. So far Miss Felter hadn't spoken up, and he hoped that the quiz could get his mind on other things.

"Here's one for you, here's one for you, and..." Miss Felter halted when she arrived at Freddie's desk. "Mr. Benson, is there a problem?"

"No, why would you ask me that Miss Felter?" Freddie said through gritted teeth.

"Mr. Benson, I can't give you a quiz unless you're wearing pants."

"Why not?" Freddie whined. "You can barely tell when I'm sitting in the desk."

"Mr. Henning told me there was a pantsless boy running around school today. Look, if the other students see the way you're dressed, it could distract them and hinder their performance. Now don't you have an extra pair in your locker?"

Freddie shook his head.

"Why not?" Freddie threw his hands up in the air.

"Do you keep an extra pair lying around?" he shot back. Miss Felter sighed.

"Does anyone have an extra pair of pants Freddie Benson can borrow?" she asked, as though she doubted anyone would.

"No way, I'm not giving my pants to Benson!" shouted a boy in the back of the room.

"Well I'm sorry Mr. Benson," Miss Felter said. "But under the circumstances I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

"Next," the lunch lady said. Freddie slammed his lunch tray down on the counter. He had been thrown out of every class today thus far, and every time he had confronted Sam she just laughed at him and pretended like the whole thing never happened. The worst part was that no one, neither Carly, Gibby, or any of his friends or anyone else that had been close by, took him seriously. No one believed that Sam stole his pants. And every teacher seemed to think that he just refused to wear any out of sheer rebelliousness.

"What's wrong sweetie?" the lunch lady asked. She eyed Freddie sympathetically. "Having a bad day?"

"The worst," Freddie groaned. "Sam Puckett stole my pants, and now no one believes me and everyone is giving me a hard time." He handed her his money.

"You say you're not wearing any pants?" Freddie rolled his eyes.

"Yes, can you just give me my change, I'm really hungry." The lunch lady pushed Freddie's hand away.

"I'm sorry baby, but if you're not wearing any pants I can't let you make a purchase."

"Gibby buys his lunch shirtless everyday!" Freddie went to grab his tray, but the lunch lady moved it out of his reach. "GIVE ME MY LUNCH!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to keep your voice down."

"C'mon Benson, you're holding up the line." Several of Freddie's classmates were waiting behind him, and growing irritated.

"OH YEAH? WELL WATCH THIS!" Before the lunch lady could react, Freddie snatched his lunch tray and began cramming as much food into his mouth as quickly as possible. He was making very unpleasant noises and creating quite a mess.

"Security!"

Two tall, beefy school security guards grabbed Freddie by the arms. Freddie clung onto his lunch tray, still determined to finish his meal, but one of the guards took it.

"Hey, I'm not done yet!"

Lifting him up, they dragged Freddie away.

Freddie was shivering on a chair in front of a computer, in the library. It was the only place he was allowed to stay inside the school building. Under normal circumstances, he would have spent the afternoon in Principal Franklin's office, however Principal Franklin found Freddie's pantlessness very disturbing, and suggested that the boy spend the rest of the day away from him in the library, under supervision. Sometime after this, the heating broke down inside the Ridgeway school complex, and now everyone in the building were freezing their butts off. Given Freddie's current state of dress, this held true especially for him.

Freddie looked over his shoulder toward the librarian, who was quietly working at her desk and occasionally observing him. He opened the Schneider browser on his computer and logged onto SplashFace. He didn't care if the librarian caught him. He didn't care about anything anymore.

A video on hard drive partitioning was loading on SplashFace. Freddie thought it looked interesting. Before it played however, an advertisement came up.

"How do you think you'd look in a...pair of these," the announcer said. An image of a cool-looking teenage boy wearing blue jeans appeared. "Buy blue jeans now from Tween Pants dot com. Real jeans, for real men."

Freddie clicked out of the video. He saw that the same one was posted under another username. He clicked on it, hoping he'd get a different commercial.

"So, you want to know how to attract the ladies?" A sexy looking blonde with a sultry voice said. "Why, it's with a big old pair of pants." The woman turned around and began petting a cartoonishly large pair of khakis.

Freddie clicked out of this video too. He decided to select the 'surprise' feature on SplashFace, which directed the user to a randomly selected video.

"Pants on the ground,

Pants on the ground,

Lookin' like a fool with yo pants on the–"

Freddie pounded the power button to the computer and held it until the machine whirred off.

"I've had it!" he yelled. His rage had been building and building all day, and now finally, it reached its climax. He leapt out of the chair and marched past the librarian, resolved on settling the matter once-and-for-all.

Carly and Sam were sitting in their algebra class, listening to their teacher lecture about binomials, when a very sweaty and red-faced Freddie barged in through the door. His focus flew straight to Sam.

"Give me my pants Sam!" he yelled. She remained completely unperturbed, which only made Freddie angrier.

"Easy there big boy, you don't want to get in anymore trouble today," she replied.

"Freddie, calm down!" Carly urged. But not even Carly could placate Freddie.

"No! I'm not calming down until she admits she took my pants!" Freddie flung a finger at Sam. The blonde gazed at Freddie reproachfully.

"I didn't steal your pants dipthong!"

"Mr. Benson, don't you belong in the library?" the algebra teacher said. Freddie took deep breaths in and out, struggling to control himself. His eyes were slits as he stared down Sam.

"If you deny that stole my pants one more time..."

"Didn't do it."

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

What happened next soon become stuff of Ridgeway legend. Freddie charged at Sam and tackled her out of her desk. The other students were thunderstruck as they watched Freddie yank and pull and tug on Sam's (or apparently his) jeans. The blonde was so taken off-guard, she couldn't fight back.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE IT, HUH?" Sam was finally getting her bearings back, but Freddie had her in such a position that she couldn't make any effective movements.

"Freddie, no!" Carly screamed.

"GIVE ME MY PANTS PUCKETT!" Freddie dug his feet into the ground and pulled upwards as hard as he could. Although Sam struggled against him, Freddie's rage had made him the stronger, and with a final grunt of exertion, he yanked them right off.

"Yeah!" Freddie was gripping his jeans victoriously. He pumped a fist into the air and looked at the other students. "Yeah!" he told them. "That'll teach you all a lesson! Don't mess with Freddie Benson, 'cause he fights back."

"Uhh, Freddie..."

Laughing to himself, Freddie sat down on the ground and slung on his jeans. He couldn't wait to finally have them on again. He frowned however when he found that the jeans wouldn't go all the way up.

"What the?" Freddie rose to his feet, tugging on the jeans as hard as he could. They wouldn't go past his hips. "Why won't they fit?"

Carly approached Freddie and gently placed her hands on his shoulders. With the kindest tone possible, she said:

"Freddie, those aren't your pants."

For the first time in that classroom, Freddie had gone silent. He held up the jeans he had ripped off Sam's butt and inspected them more closely. Although the stitchwork and color were the same as his, and obviously from Tween Pants dot com, the style was different and they were noticeably smaller than the ones he had. Freddie dropped the jeans, feeling thoroughly confused.

"Jeez Benson!" One of the other students had spoken up. "You just took off a girl's pants!"

"I – she –"

"Holy crap, Benson stole Puckett's pants. In the middle of class!"

Freddie looked over at Sam, who was lying on the floor and peering up innocently at him. She had on a pair of boxers which said 'I heart Freddie' across the front. Freddie started losing the feeling in his brain.

"Yeah, I saw him showing off his old pants to a bunch of first-graders earlier. First-graders! The guy's a sicko."

"Wait a minute!" Freddie shouted. The chattering instantly stopped. The other students instinctively clutched their leg-wear.

"This doesn't prove anything!" Freddie said. "I saw her take my pants this morning so it's a fact! She could have easily just stolen them and then hidden them away so no one could find them! They could be in her locker. Or in the dumpster. Or in the baseball field. And..." Freddie jabbed a violent finger at Sam's boxers. "And WHEN did she get those?"

"Pants thief!" cried someone.

Freddie was eventually hauled away by the security guards once again, and wound up back in Franklin's office.

"Well, they don't usually bring them to me, but Principal Franklin has decided that I should determine your punishment." Mr. Howard was sitting across from Freddie in the Principal's office. Principal Franklin had nervously made up an excuse so he could leave, and put Mr. Howard in his stead.

"I didn't do anything," Freddie said. "Sam stole my pants and hid them somewhere. I just haven't found them yet."

"They searched the whole school and didn't find anything Benson."

"That's just because they haven't found them yet. It doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"Look Freddie, I want to help you." Mr. Howard leaned over the desk so he could be closer to Freddie. He checked the area around them, as if to make sure no one else was watching. "I used to have a similar problem when I was your age."

Freddie's eyebrows perked up.

"Really?"

"Yes." Mr. Howard hesitated before withdrawing a piece of paper. "Look, I really shouldn't give you this since you're a student and you're not eighteen yet, but..." Mr. Howard pushed the paper towards Freddie. "If you really like pants, there's this website. You can watch videos anonymously."

"You're sick man!" Freddie suddenly shouted. He saw what was on the paper and ripped it to shreds. He stormed out of the office.

"Freddie, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Eating your pants is a beautiful thing."

Over at the Groovy Smoothie, an out-of-towner walked through the door. She made her way toward the register and propped her arms on the counter. It was a few seconds before T-bo eventually noticed her.

"Hey, I know you," T-bo said.

"Aw, thanks T-bo," Melanie said. "One Strawberry Splat?"

"Coming right up. That'll be three twenty-nine."

Melanie reached into her new pair of blue jeans and fished out a five. After T-bo gave her the change, he turned around to gather the ingredients. Melanie watched him carefully, her eyes sliding down to his legs. She smiled.

"Love your pants."

Someone was knocking on Freddie's apartment door. It was late at night and Mrs. Benson was still at work. Freddie trudged over to see what all the commotion was about. He should have been asleep, but due to the events that had transpired over the course of the day, this was impossible.

Freddie opened the door and found Sam standing there, sheepishly gazing back at him.

"What do you want Sam?" Freddie still thought that Sam had stolen his jeans. To his surprise, the blonde blushed.

"Uh...would you mind taking off my pants again. I...kinda liked it."

Disclaimer - I do not own iCarly, its characters, nor any other shows, characters, music, and/or movies that may be referenced.