IDOI (I don't Own iCarly)

I'm back! I got home on Friday and I spent most of Saturday sleeping.

I know I'm a little late for New Year's fics but I was busy. This will be in two parts. The second one will be up in...soon.

Inspiration: On Dan Schneider's blogspot .com/ , there's a list of funny phrases he thinks we should retire at the end of 2009. So I wrote a fic to use ALL the phrases before the iCarlyites go 2010. This is their last laugh.

2 hours until 2010 and the party at the Shay household was in full swing. In addition to the usual inhabitants of the apartment, there was half of the Ridgeway Sophmore class. Obviously, there was no alcohol. (Spencer wasn't that irresponsible.) But due to the massive quantities of soda and candy and other sweets, the partiers were acting strange, to say the least.

"I don't think we should do this, Sam. It isn't healthy."

Sam scoffed. "Stop being such a wuss, Wimpy McWimp...er...son."

Freddie raised an eyebrow. "Wimpy McWimperson?"

"Shut up and help me."

He grabbed some of the cans from her arms and set them down on the island in the kitchen.

"But, I mean, Peppy Cola is sugary enough and you want to pour in Pixie Stix?"

Sam grinned. "Yeah, I know, I'm a genius. Open these cans while I get a bowl."

As Freddie opened the soda, Sam hunted through the cupboards and drawers for the biggest bowl she could find. She found it in a bottom cupboard and bent over to grab it. When she straightened back up and turned around, she caught Freddie staring at her.

"What?"

He snapped out of his trance. "What?"

"What d'you mean 'what'? You were staring at me."

"No. No I wasn't."

"Yeah, you kinda were."

"No, I swear."

"Don't make me do what I did last time."

"HEY, I wasn't staring at you that time either. And you didn't have to empty the whole tray of food down my pants. I actually had to throw those pants away because the stains wouldn't come out. My mom was furious. I was grounded for a month."

A contented look crossed Sam's face. "Ah, good times...." She regained focus. "Wait, what were we talking about?"

Freddie stuttered, "N-nothing."

Sam stared him down a little longer. Then she shook her head and placed the bowl on the table.

"Whatever. We don't have time for this. Dump the Peppy cola in here."

Freddie let out a breath of relief. He started to empty the soda into the bowl.

"Why do we need to make a whole bowl?"

"..." No answer.

He turned around. Sam was concentrating on cutting each Pixie Stix in half and dispensing the sweet substance into another bowl.

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Will you go out with me?"

"Yea- wait, what?!?" She looked up incredulously.

Freddie grinned. "Now that I have your attention....why are we making a whole bowl?"

Sam sighed, stood up, and patted Freddie on the shoulder. "Fredward, Fredward, Fredward," she began in a condescending tone, "My dear mentally challenged Fredward. We need a whole bowl because we are making this concoction to share with the people." She gestured with a sweeping arm to the dancing crowd of teens in the Shay's livingroom. "We must spread the joy of cavities and hyperactivity to all the boys and girls. We must show the commoners' taste buds what it feels like to be treated as royalty. We must induce stupidity. We must cause foolishness. We must demonstrate what it means to party. And so, since Spencer decided to be a grown-up for, like, the first time ever and prohibited alcohol, I must make do with what I can."

"Everyone's already crazy from all the regular Peppy cola they drank. And besides, I don't think Pixie sticx and Peppy cola has the same effects as beer, Sam."

"Well, then you haven't tried it yet. And there's no such thing as too much soda. Now get back to your job."

After they finished their respective tasks, Sam held the Pixie stix bowl over the cola bowl.

"Are you ready, Freddie...ugh, I can't believe I just said that."

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

"Well, then," Sam tipped the Pixie stix bowl over, "SHA-ZAM!"

The powder fell into the soda with a splash. Freddie stared at the mixture. Nothing happened.

"Alrighty then. That was a waste of time."

Sam smirked and held up a ladle. "Try it."

Freddie scoffed. "Whatever, Sam."

He grabbed the ladle and a nearby cup. Filling the cup all the way, he glanced at Sam before downing the drink.

"I don't see what's so—"

Freddie's eyes widened and Sam grinned."Good, eh?"

"Oh. My. God."

Freddie filled and drank another cup full. "It's like a party in my mouth. And everyone in the party is drinking this and having parties in their mouths."

"Glad you like it. Now give me the ladle. Mama wants some cola."

She attempted to grab the ladle from Freddie's hand but he held it over his head.

Sam growled. "What the hell, doofus?"

He shook his head. "I need some more."

"You can have more after I get some."

He shook his head again. "No, it's mine, all mine." Then he took off. Though too bad for him, Sam had the reflexes of a doped up mountain lion. She jumped and Freddie was on the ground in a split second.

"Give me the ladle, you nub."

"Noooo, it's mine, it's all mine."

They rolled over and over each other, bumping into the kitchen walls.

"Give it—"

"No—"

"Ladle—"

"ARGH!"

"Dammit."

Freddie pinned Sam to the ground, the ladle next to her head. They were both gasping for air.

"It's mine. No one gets to have any."

Sam raised a hand and slapped him. He shook his head and the wild look left his eyes.

"Wha—where—" Freddie noticed the very angry blonde beneath him. He stood up, laughing nervously.

"Heh, heh. Hey Sam, what's up?"

She snatched up the ladle and advanced menacingly.

"Now, Sam, let's not get hasty here. It was the drink. I'm sor—"

Sam lunged. Freddie's screams couldn't be heard over the blaring music.

"Put your pants back on, Gibby, and get off the table!"

Gibby was currently on the coffee table, in his briefs, rocking out to 'Poker face'."

"C'mon, Carly, this is my song! I always dance to it in my underwear. Sometimes even without."

"Okay, first of all, too much information; second, 'Poker face' is nobody's song; and third, my deceased grandmother gave me that table. I suggest you get off before I ask Sam to do it for you."

Gibby continued dancing. "Ha, Sam's not gonna listen to you. She's too busy with Freddie. And by busy with Freddie, I mean beating the crap out of him. Look."

He pointed over the raging mob.

"WHAT?!?"

Carly joined him on the table. Gibby's words were true. Sam was going "The Seattle Way" on Freddie. With a ladle.

Second part will be posted soon. So will the 6th chapter of My Mistake.

Review. Report any errors/problems.

Please? For me?