Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada
"Cold, Fredward?" Sam snickered as they sat on the beach.
"Yes, because SOMEBODY spilled Peppy Cola on them!" Freddie retorted.
"Really sorry." Sam said, sipping another can of Peppy Cola.
"Hey, is that a volleyball game?" Freddie asked, looking to their left.
"You want to play a volleyball game?" Sam asked in disbelief.
"It'll be fun." Freddie assured.
"Volleyball is stupid." Sam said.
"Is it stupid because 'only tall people' play it?" Freddie asked knowingly.
"Shut up."
"Come on, let's play."
"No."
"Just one game?"
"Aren't you afraid of some crab biting your ankle?"
"No! I just...like to take care of my body."
"Don't we all."
"So, one game?"
"Fine, Fredweird," Sam conceded, "but you're buying me chicken after."
"If you hadn't said that, I'd be concerned." Freddie replied.
Sam and Freddie walked down the beach to a crowd of people, and one volleyball net.
"Oh look, challengers." A young man said.
"You up for a game, shorty?" Another young man asked Sam, removing his sunglasses. Identical twins. Before Freddie could answer, Sam grabbed the man's arm and flipped him to the ground, causing commotion and laughter within the crowd.
The other twin shoved the ball into Sam's hands.
"Name's Mason. Two against one, me versus you're little boyfriend. First one to 21 points wins. You're gonna pay for treating my brother like that. One game. If I win, you have to make out with my brother." This got Freddie's blood boiling.
"And if we win, my boyfriend gets to make out with her." Sam said, pointing to a girl behind Mason's side of the net.
Freddie pulled Sam away for a second, toward the water.
"Sam, are you crazy?" He asked. "I'm not making out with that girl! I barely know how to play volleyball!"
"Look, I've seen you play one or two games. You're probably as good as I am at this. I know you love me and chiz, but just do it for me, okay? It'll all be work out in the end. It's just to wazz off that wackjob of a dude over there."
"But-"
"You can play your nubby Galaxy Wars music once we're back in the RV..." Sam offered.
Freddie sighed. "Okay. We'd better win, though."
"It's two against one! How can we not win?" Sam asked her husband.
"He may have some secret skill we've never seen before!" Freddie whispered as they walked back to the net.
"Relax, nub. He's nothing special." Sam assured.
Freddie was chosen to serve first, and he attempted a spike. Mason returned the ball straight between Sam and Freddie, scoring the first point.
Sam bumped the ball up, and Freddie used a set move to send it back to Sam. She spiked it into Mason's side for their first point.
Most of the crowd cheered for Mason, and the game was getting good.
Freddie managed to get a few spikes of his own against Mason.
"Jane, get on the field with me!" Mason yelled at his girlfriend. "Let's beat these jerkwads!"
Sam smacked the ball over the net, aiming for Mason. Jane had already entered the field, and it hit her square in the forehead, sending her crashing to the ground.
Mason ripped himself around to face Sam and Freddie, his expression more malicious than ever.
He tried to spike the ball straight at Sam's head, but she dodged it, missing the flying volleyball by inches. Now it was Freddie's turn to be angry.
"You just tried to hit my wife!" Freddie yelled.
"And your stupid wife tried to hit my girlfriend!" Mason yelled back. "At least my girlfriend isn't an aggressive bitch!"
"You know, you could apologize!" Freddie shouted.
"Tell your dipshit of a wife to apologize!" Mason shouted back, now leaning over Jane.
Freddie expected Sam to get up and fight Mason, but she didn't.
"Let's just go." Sam said quietly."
"You sure?" Freddie asked softly.
Sam nodded.
Freddie picked up Sam bridal style and began to walk away without a word. He was not surprised to hear Mason yelling at him from behind.
"Hey! Come the hell back here and finish this! I'll...call the cops!"
"And I'll tell them exactly what happened!" Freddie said loudly, making his way back to the RV with Sam.
Freddie knew he needed to drive to a campsite quickly, so Sam could calm down and relax. He'd do whatever she wanted him to so she'd recover from the day's "activities".
Freddie reached the RV and let Sam walk in. She went to the refridgerator to get some chicken.
"I'm never playing volleyball again." Sam declared as Freddie started the RV.
"Hey, they were just bad people. There will be other volleyball games that are more friendly." Freddie assured.
"It was your idea, Fredward." Sam reminded, putting her chicken in the microwave. "Let's just find a camp, so I can sleep."
Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada
After about four and a half hours of driving (with Freddie driving the last 30 minutes because of Sam's threats of a sexless night), they arrived in their last destination on their tour of Canada, driving east at least. Then they'd head west back to Seattle to pick up Carly and any other close friends that would need to come. It all would come to an end in Massachusetts, where they'd all go to their various colleges.
"This place smells like rotten fish," Sam said as she walked through Halifax with Freddie. There weren't many other people around.
"Then Saint John must've smelled like uncooked fish or something." Freddie replied, rolling his eyes. "It's like Seattle."
"Nah, Holifux or whatever this place is called smells worse," Sam said.
"It's Halifax," Freddie chuckled, "the ships are right over there. Looks like they're loading shipping crates onto them or something."
"Give me your jacket."
"Sam-"
Sam ripped Freddie's arms straight out to this sides, slid his jacket off, and put it on herself.
"I have a feeling I won't be getting that back," Freddie sighed.
"Nope,"
"I thought so."
"Hey, what's that guy doing with that box?" Sam asked, referring to the violently swinging shipping container less than 50 yards away from them.
"That thing could come off the crane!" Freddie shouted the wind picked up.
Unexpectedly, the box's double doors flew open, sending hundreds of slimy, smelly, and squishy squids toward Sam and Freddie. Neither person had a chance to react. SPLAT!
The Bensons were now covered in thousands of squids, all in a large puddle of slime and chemicals.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
Sam fought her way through the mass of dead tenticle-clad animals, and punched one arm through the top of the pile.
After several minutes, she heaved herself up and on top of the squids, slipping onto her chest and sliding to the ground.
"Thank God Freddie didn't see that..."
At the thought of Freddie, she whipped around and looked at the squids again. The mountain wasn't moving and there were no sounds, except for the noises of Halifax.
"Ugh, Freddie!" Sam said to herself as she began flinging squids in all directions.
After removing about 30 squids, she caught sight of a stained polo shirt.
Sam gasped, sending the aquatic animals away with more speed.
She finally uncovered his body, and lifted him out of the remains of the pile. Needing directions to a hospital, she walked up to a chubby man in a plaid shirt, who was drinking eggnog.
"Where's the hospital?" Sam demanded from the man.
"Go west 2 blocks, north 2 blocks, and west 2 blocks," The man said, slurping his eggnog.
"Uh...thanks," Sam said, darting off toward the hospital.
"Move along, people! Don't mind me!" She yelled at other pedestrians as she carried Freddie through the city.
Within 15 minutes, she reached the local hospital, entering with an older man.
"He's knocked out," Sam said, interrupting the desk lady.
Luckily, a doctor was near the main counter. Some nurses loaded Freddie onto a stretcher and rolled him back into an examination room.
"Wait until we can see what the hell happened," The desk lady said after taking Sam and Freddie's identification. "We'll get back to you as soon as possible."
"Thanks..." Sam muttered, plopping down into a chair in the nearby waiting room. The man she walked in with was already there.
"Freddie would want me to let the others know..." Sam said to herself, digging her PearPhone out of her bag.
"GRACE! WE NEED GRACE! LET EVERYONE BE GRACEFUL, THROUGH HARDSHIP, THROUGH HAPPINESS! LET EVERYONE ON THIS EARTH HAVE GRACE! IF YOU BELIEVE IN GRACE, YOU WILL NO LONGER HAVE TO SIT NEXT TO PEOPLE WHO SMELL LIKE STALE MILK. IF YOU BELIEVE IN GRACE, YOU WILL BE THE KING OR QUEEN OF BANANAS! IF YOU BELIEVE IN GRACE—"
"Sir," A nurse shouted. "You're gonna need to quiet down. It's so annoying."
Sam looked around at the people she shared the room with, who were either drooling and asleep, or smoking.
"Sorry, ma'am," The man said, embarrassed. "Grace will punish me."
With a shake of her head, the nurse returned to the operating and examination rooms. Not even ten seconds later, she emerged again.
"Samantha Benson?" She called out, eyeing the stocky man who had an outbust not seconds before.
Fearing for the worst, Sam collected her things and followed the nurse.
They reached room 111, and the smell of salt and slime clouded the space.
"He had—mild concussion from falling so hard," The doctor coughed. "We st-stitched h-his head up, b-but he should be good t-to go."
"Drunk," Sam thought.
"I'll just take him out of here. You guys have enough crazy stuff in here already," Sam said, taking a rusty wheelchair from a corner, lifting Freddie up, and pushing him straight out of the old hospital and into Halifax, just as the doctor vomited on his own bare feet. She snapped a picture of the dilapidated building before heading off for the RV.
Approximately three hours later, Freddie hadn't woken up. Sam was getting worried, and considering taking him to another hospital.
As she contemplated this, she heard rustling behind her. Upon turning around, she caught sight of an awake, open-eyed Freddie.
"Sam?" He asked tiredly.
"Hey, nub. Glad you're back." Sam said, hugging him and giving him a peck on the lips.
"What happened?"
"It's a long story. Why don't you get some sleep, and I'll start driving us back to Seattle," Sam said.
"Okay."
Within seconds, Freddie was fast asleep in the RV.
"Now, where did he put that map?"