Club

"Spencer's going to kill us," Freddie said to Sam as he helped her push the couch out of the way.

"Relax," Sam said, putting down her end of the couch near the counter, leaving a wide empty space in the living area. "Him and Carly won't be back until close to midnight. We'll have everything cleaned up by then."

"And by we, I assume you mean me?" Freddie said.

"Well, yeah," Sam shrugged. "You have everything?"

"Yup," Freddie said, placing a bunch of plastic cups sideways on the floor. "All the equipment for an afternoon of meat golf."

"Where are the clubs?"

"By Bottle Bott," he replied. "You know, Sam, when most couples have the whole afternoon to themselves, they think of things to do besides puttering a ball of meat around all day."

"You're just upset because I beat you last time we played," Sam said, handing Freddie his club.

"The window was open and it blew my meatball away from the cup!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said, setting a meatball on the floor. "Now stand back and let Mama show you how it's done." She putted, and the meatball sailed straight into the first cup.

"Lucky shot," Freddie said, placing his own meatball on the ground while Sam did a victory dance. He putted his meatball but it landed a few inches from the first cup.

"Not too impressive Benson," Sam said in a singsong voice.

"It's the stupid club," Freddie insisted. "Switch with me."

"What? No way. I like mine."

"So you don't think you could win with mine?"

"Face it, Fredbear, I could win if I was using a toothpick as a club. I just want this one."

"Why?"

"Mainly because you want it."

"Sam, just let me try with that club," Freddie whined. "This stupid one is costing me the game."

"A poor workman blames his tools," Sam said.

"I told you that!" Freddie exclaimed. "Last week when you said you failed you math test because your textbook's pages were too white to study from!"

"Fine," Sam conceded. "You can have a turn with the club."

"Thank you," Freddie said, reaching for it. "You'll see. I'll-"

"But," Sam said, pulling the club away from his reach. "Let's make things a little interesting."

"Interesting?" Freddie frowned. "You mean bet? Sam, you know we promised Carly we'd stop the bets after you made me sneak into the monkey cage at the zoo. She made us sign that contract and everything."

"Carly's not here, is she?" Sam pointed out. "And I promise I won't make you do anything 'life-threatening'."

"Well…okay," Freddie agreed reluctantly.

"Alright," Sam said. "If when you use the club you don't do any better than you did with yours, you have to take me to that steakhouse that just opened up by the yogurt shop."

"Just the soup at that place costs thirty dollars!" Freddie cried. "Okay, whatever. But if I do do better than-"

"Ha, you said 'do do'" Sam laughed.

"-You have to come with me to my next Galaxy Wars fan club meeting this weekend," he finished, rolling his eyes.

"What? That's got to be the lamest thing I've ever heard of! Why do I have to go there?"

"Because none of the other guys believe I have a hot girlfriend," he said. "If I show up with you I could impress the other guys enough to make me president!"

"Whatever," Sam said, shaking her head. She tossed Freddie the golf club. "Let's see what you've got."

Freddie putted his meatball right into the second cup.

"That doesn't mean anything," Sam said as Freddie grinned cockily. "You still have five more holes to get through."

Freddie, however, managed to get hole-in-one's for those as well. Sam slipped up on the third hole and putted a four.

"Well, well, well," Freddie said, crossing his arms happily. "Looks like someone just won someone's little bet."

"I-I that wasn't fair," Sam said. "You cheated!"

"How could I have possible cheated?"

"You did," Sam said, throwing her golf club on the floor. "Somehow."

"Uh-huh," Freddie said, putting an arm around her. "Now then, the fan club's meeting is this Saturday at eight."

"Fine," Sam mumbled. "I'll go."

"And we always dress up," Freddie continued.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I usually go as Nug-Nug," Freddie said. "And I was thinking you could go as Princess Maya in her silver bikini."

"Dream on, nub," Sam said, thumping Freddie on his head.

"Hey, can't blame me for trying."