It seemed strange to Freddie as him and Sam exited the bathroom, that the floor had turned into a conveyor belt. Conveyor belts weren't made of wood. He grabbed her arm as he gingerly stepped on the moving floor, fully expecting to be whisked off across the Shays living room. But the forward motion of the supposed floor didn't effect him at all.

HE looked over as Sam gripped his hand tighter.

"Did you see that?!" She pointed with her other hand at the pop bottle robot.

Freddie followed her motion with exaggerated carefulness. It shimmered but did not move. He shook his head.

She let go of his hand and punched him in the side of his ribs before gingerly stepping forward to examine the sculpture. That's what he liked about the shorter girl, she never backed down and didn't afraid of anything.

"He blinked Fredwad. I saw him blink."

The robot uprising, maybe they baked the chocolates to kill us. With eyes opening wider the closer she got to the robot, he watched. The silence hung in the room like a forty two inch landscape painting by a grand master.

Closer.

Closer.

Her fingers brushed the robots face when a muffled crash echoed down the stairs, then most silence. It took a second for both the teens to realize that it had come from upstairs instead of deep in the bowels of the plastic cyborg.

"Carly!" Their voices mingled in mutual concern.

He knew she was dead. The robots had got her as they distracted him and Sam. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch to cover her and started to scramble up the stairs. She had run to the elevator door. But when she saw him start up the stairs she followed. Her thumping followed him up one, two flights of stairs. They tried to grab his feet, but he was glad he was so fast. He hoped Sam would be as lucky. But as he rounded the corner to the hallway outside of the studio she was right there behind him, panting into his ear., breath ragged and hammy.

Thump Thump Thump. The floor fairly vibrated with bass. When did that start? The robots were celebrating one of his best friends demise.

He looked over his shoulder. The stair well seemed to be trying to suck ms. Puckett into it's depths, he brought her close and whispered seriously into her ear, "OK, here's the plan. I'll go in there and draw their fire and you snap their necks."

Sam's eyes went wide, "Their?"

"The robots that got Carly."

Her eyes unfocused for a second before she brought them back in line, focusing on the task at hand, "I just thought it was an apartment quake."

"Robots" He stated firmly. Who'd ever heard of an apartment quake?

"Right nub, lets hit it," She said as she discarded the rest of her ham on the floor. He dropped the would be shroud.

Freddie crept along the wall bordering the studio. Bricks lightly scarping his back through his striped shirt. He fumbled for the door handle.

Thump thump thump thump. Silence. Time to strike, as the son changed.

With a manly roar he threw open the door and charged in. Sam pushing him aside and sprinting at the robot invader.

The robot screamed in shock. The robot was Carly. Carly was not a robot.

"Sam! No!"

He watched her in what seemed like slow motion as she tried to stop short, failing, dodging around Carly, tripping on the Pearpod speakers which had been left on the floor and catapulting herself on top of the hood of the car.

Carly grabbed at Sam trying to pull her upright, "What is going on! Where were you guys?"

He strode towards the two girls deliberately, "We thought your were attacked by robots."

"What?!"

Sam looked uncharacteristically demure, "The crash. We heard a crash."

"Well that's no reason to think Robots were after me! Does it look like we're in any mechanical danger?"

Freddie looked at the pearpod cradle that Sam had fallen over and giggled an unmanly giggle. "Well you don't. But Sam!"

Samantha Puckett was not amused at his little jibe. He could tell. The knuckle cracking gave it away he thought. She was going to be the one to kill him. Not Spencer, not the Robots, Sam.

His giggling slowed down, but he couldn't stop it from leaking out. He clapped his hands over his mouth trying to hold in his mirth, but no. She was coming.

With exaggerated slowness Carly placed herself in between the two facing Sam, "What's the rule about beating Freddie?"

Sam rolled her eyes comically, "Don't hit the geek till he's bleeding."

"And?"

"Not at all in front of Carly."

"Right," the brown haired girl affirmed. "Now lets just slow down guys. It's just a little mixed up in here."

You could say that again he thought. This whole afternoon had been one huge fiasco, poisoned killer robots, orgasmic ham. Ham, he wanted something his mouth. Something to roil around, and chew.

The beat of the music thrummed back after an apparently slow and silent song. It wasn't something they normally listened to, more Bass, electronic instruments and of course no cute boy or pop teen idol singing. He wanted to move his feet, but he wanted something in his mouth more.

Carly, still between him and Sam, started to move her hips to the beat. Moving them once every two beats as if her hips we possessed with an old mambo dancer. He saw the same after trails his hands had made earlier only with her torso. She spun around still moving her hips, eyes glazed over as all her concentration seemed to be in the music. Her black jeans seemed to merge with her Pink and silver hoody, the lighter pink shirt she wore under it just peeking out of the three quarter closed zipper.

Sam seemed to have been taken over as well, sitting back on the car hood her legs bounced with the music. She was wearing khaki clam diggers, a good six inches of flesh between the bottom of her pant cuff and her ankle socks. That's what he wanted to taste, the thought creeping into his head as he watched them jiggle. Calves.

"No," he said out loud. The two girls didn't seem to hear him, probably for the best. Crazy and dieing a bad combination.

He remembered the discarded ham in the hall. That would have to do for his mouth issues. There was no way Sam wouldn't kick him right in the teeth if he tried.

With a little more confidence and volume he declared, "I just need to get something from the hallway. Don't go anywhere. Sam."

Sam must have looked up, but he was already working his way through the studio towards the door.

Mission: Save Carly From Robots, complete.