(A/N) I saw a challenge a few day ago from SunnyRose wanting to know our versions of how Freddie knew about Sam's I Heart Vegas undies. I wrote a story called Leaving Las Vegas Alone which was told from Freddie's POV. It was just supposed to be a one-shot but HookedOnAvatar011 reviewed (thank you) and suggested I do it from Sam's POV. This is a sort of sequel, if you will. I think it makes more sense if you read Leaving Las Vegas Alone first. Now on with the show. Enjoy.

Disclaimer stuff: Again, I don't own anything but the sequence of words on the page.

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November 10, 2008

I, Sam Puckett, am about to say something I don't like saying too often. Fredward Benson is right. That little Skunk Bag is going to die. Sure the Nub claims it was all an accident, and that he tried to call me, but if the room were on fire he would have found a way to warn me, right? Right. So what am I talking about? I am talking about the fact that the Doof saw me in my I Heart Las Vegas underwear a few weeks ago. His version is that he logged back on to the web cam after he was talking to Carly to say something about the Science project, and I just happened to be dancing around the room after changing out of my paint splattered clothes. I swear the Boy Blunder has the lousiest timing in the world. Anyway, to make matters worse, he chooses to bring it up when we're in a car with our Japanese competition while out for a nice day of shopping.

Ok, so they weren't so nice. Yes, we were kidnapped and dumped on the side of the road. Yes, I was splattered with mud (all the way down to my I Heart Las Vegas underwear, by the way), jumped on a big bald guy in a bad toupee, played charades with the idiot Japanese security and won the award anyway, but does that mean that I forgot about him bringing up my Vegas undies? Well actually, I kind of did. Lucky for me, I have no regard for other people's personal property.

I suppose you're wondering how, exactly, I find out. Well, it wasn't from Captain Anti-bacterial Underpants. Ha Ha, I guess it kind of was. I discovered something interesting about the Goob this week. When he's really tired, he talks in his sleep, especially when he thinks you're Carly. It's not as wild and wacky as Spencer, but it can lead to some useful information when the right questions are asked. While everyone else was asleep last night, I wasn't. I wandered around picking through other people's luggage and stuff and I saw Freddie's computer on the desk. Hello, bored girl with a laptop in sight. I went to check my Splash Face account, but the Dork had the password on. I was not going to bed, so I had to try and get it from him.

I snuck into their room. His Nut Job mother was asleep in the next bed. This woman is the freakiest disaster I have ever seen. She sleeps with her hands crossed over her chest and her eyes wide open. I half expected her to sit straight up, bare her fangs, and say "Good Eeevening" like in those monster movies. Anyway, after I heard her let out a little snort, I figured she was asleep. I crawled over to Freddie's bed and shook his shoulder. I first said his name in my voice, but he just pushed my hand away and turned over. The second time, I got really close to his ear and said something vomit inducing like: "Hey handsome, it's Carly. I need to get the pass code to your computer so I can e-mail everyone and tell them how much I'm in love with you." So how did it work? His password is techdude94. Unfortunately Carly woke up and caught me out of bed, so I couldn't use it last night.

This morning I woke up to an empty hotel room. The note from Carly said that Mrs. Benson dragged Freddie to some Japanese Herb guy to get seasick junk for the trip back, and Spencer and Carly went out to see if he could find any more of that Japanese soap. That meant I had at least an hour free, alone in the hotel room...And Freddie's computer was locked inside his room. Locks, Psshh! Ten seconds later I pulled it out and logged on. I saw a folder on the desktop that said, "Open in Case of My Death Only". Yeah, Freddie. You might as well have put "Ham Inside" for the good it will do keeping me out! I opened it up and read all about "the Incident" as he calls it. Really? My underpants in the web cam? And what's this about his will? What, nothing for me? He could have at least left me his…eh, never mind. It all had nerd germs on it anyway.

I have grown to…not totally hate the lump, so I don't think I'll kill him. A good concussion, however, just might knock that memory out of him. Things like that aren't safe in growing boys' brains. He already brought it up once. Maybe I will kill him…no. A concussion it will be. Sorry Fredward.

November 15, 2008

Freddie really does have Carly to thank. She made a good point about him saving the show for us, and how it's because of him that we got the award. So I let the Dweeb off soft. The way I see it, he saw my underpants, and I saw his. You know, an eye for an eye kind of thing. Seems fair to me … only, I don't really like fair. Fair is boring. I believe the dear Mr. Benson thinks that the super wedgie I gave him was the end of it (ha, the end). Oh Contraire Mon Frere. As he'll soon find out, I've signed dear Fredward up for the bra of the month club; to be delivered care of Coach Gunner at Ridgecrest during PE. He's also currently the number two rated bachelor on (Number one writes a Galaxy Wars Blog and lives in a tree house in his Grandmothers backyard.). Finally, I have decided to make use of my new discovery that Freddie talks in his sleep. I'll sneak his key out of his backpack during lunch next week and make a copy. Getting into his room will be no problem. Besides, after his letter, I'm kind of curious about that bottom drawer. I hope it's juicy, blackmail material could come in handy.

Later Dudes.

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See that review thing down there in the green. Push it! So far my stories have been one-shots. This wasn't a continuation of the other story, it another POV. In essence, it's Sam's story instead of Freddie's. Because of that, I chose to do two separate stories, but I'm not sure if this was correct. Please let me know if I'm wrong, or if you think I'm a mad genius who deserves fame, notoriety and fat checks. I won't hold my breath on that second part though.