Command
Sam didn't ask anybody anything. She commanded it.
Freddie, of course, being her boyfriend, noticed this a lot.
"Freddie, take me to dinner tonight," she might say. Or, "Freddie, take me to the Groovy Smoothie."
Please was a word that simply wasn't in her vocabulary. Freddie, however, decided to see if he could change this. Carly warned him that he would just wind up getting his head stuffed in the toilet again, but he stubbornly refused to set down.
"Freddie, get me a soda," Sam said one evening on the Shay's couch.
"Freddie, get me a soda, what?" Freddie asked.
Carly, who had been sitting next to Sam, sensed that things were about to get fighty and ran up to the studio before she could get caught in the crossfire.
"Did I stutter? Go, Mama's thirsty."
"I will, when you say the magic word."
Sam seemed surprised at his daring. Sure, the nub had gotten more of a backbone over the years, but this? This was just crazy.
"I'm thirsty," she said, glaring at her boyfriend. "I want soda."
"Then you know what you have to do."
"Yeah, beat you until I get it."
"Beating me still won't get you a soda," he said, crossing his arms, sort of enjoying this.
Sam weighed her options in her head. She was very thirsty, and she certainly wasn't going to get up and get the soda herself. It seemed like the only thing to do…
"Get me a soda, please, King of the Geekiest."
"I'd be glad to," Freddie said, getting up, not even noticing the insult at the end of her statement.
