iClue

Disclaimer: Do you own an iCarly? Cause I can't seem to find mine... no, wait, I don't have one. Never mind. I own A clue game, but not THE clue game.

Author's Notes: So, Spencer's dead. Have to admit, I felt a little guilty doing that. I mean, it's SPENCER, who has he ever hurt? But, it's for the sake of entertainment, so I'm sure Spencer wouldn't mind, would ya, Spence? Oh, and in case you skip the chapter title, Sam/Scar and Freddie/Plum are gonna finally start working together. ENJOY!


Chapter 5: iMake a Truce With Sam/Scar

It took myself, Howard/Mustard, Gibby/Green, and Sam/Scar, to carry the dead boddy of Spencer/Boddy (Sorry; that was a lame joke) up the stairs to his room. It wasn't that the body was heavy; it's just that no one really wanted to touch it, seeing as he was still bleeding (Despite being dead), and his eyes were still open (Once we got to his room, I closed them). Finally, Sam/Scar snapped at us all for being babies, and tried to lift the body on her own. Then I thought, what the heck, and convinced Howard/Mustard and Gibby/Green to help. I think they only did it so they didn't look like wimps compared to us (Especially since one of us is a girl).

After we took care of the body, we sat around the living room, trying to figure out what to do next. We are all pretty calm...

"AAAHHHH!!!! We're all gonna DIE!!!"

...Well, except for Gibby/Green. Man, that dude screams LOUD! After a few minutes of this Sam/Scar tells him to silence or face the wrath of the Invisible Ham Ninja. That confuses everyone but myself (Who knows about Sam's desire to be an invisible ninja), so she explains that it's 'cool people' talk for she's gonna kick his butt if he doesn't shut up (Well, not in those exact words, but in that ballpark).

We don't hear from him for the rest of the meeting.

"Well, what are we gonna do?" Mom/White's panicking up a storm. We all stare at her as she paces the room and babbles, "We have to call the police, the army, SOMEBODY! You're all either children or really old, you can't handle a murderer! And I certainly know that I can't handle a murderer! What do we do?! What do we do?! What do we-" Sam/Scar, annoyed, cuts her off with a smack to the face. Mom/White holds her cheek (Where she was smacked), and stares at Sam/Scar with a look of surprise. It didn't look like it hurt; she's just shocked that it happened at all.

"We have to get out of here!" Carly/Peacock says, a worried expression adorning her face. She glances around the room, as if trying to find a way out. In a way, she seems kinda like a claustrophobic person trapped in a small room; only without the hyperventilating,

"We can't," Howard/Mustard addressed her bluntly, "Go anywhere. We have a murderer among us, and don't think you women are counted out. You're just as guilty as us!" His tone was cruel, as if her were attempting to use her insecurity and fear against her. Carly looks at him, aghast by his words.

"A-Are you trying to say that... I'M the murderer!" Her shocked expression suddenly transforms into one I rarely see from Carly: Anger. Obviously she's outraged at the supposed accusation. I decide to cut in.

"Hey, no one's accusing anyone of anything! We DO have a murderer among us... he's just trying to point out that gender will not get you acquitted," I gulp, and turn to Sam, hoping that she's not mad at my suggestion. Instead, she just nods at me to continue, "Any one of us could be the murderer; we can't afford to have pretenses when faced with a killer. Everyone, including myself, is a suspect," A collective round of gasps went around the room, while Sam/Scar rolls her eyes at them... or is it at me?

Whatever, I can't afford to ponder at times like this. Then, Mom makes a suggestion all of us agree on, for once, "Why don't we all go back to our rooms and think this over?" After another collective round, of nods this time, we all head upwards to return to our bedrooms, and try not to think about the corpse next door.

My thoughts are interrupted when a hand grabs my wrist and jerks me into the theater. There's no one else in here, just me and whoever yanked me in here. I turn around, "So, whataya want, Scar?"

She scowls, not having the element of surprise taken from her, "How'd ya know it was me?" Her voice is more curious than scornful, so I explain.

"Well, your the only one taking any kind of action about the murder, you seemed kinda quiet during the meeting, meaning you had nothing to say in front of those people, and I could smell the ham on your breath from the dining room!" Sam/Scar sighs, dropping her angry act and letting me see how she really feels. Which is confused.

"Listen..." She began, "Spencer Boddy was the only reason I got into acting school; They don't welcome poor girls in with open arms, do they? I-We were closer than we seemed, he's almost like a brother to me," She turns her head, ashamed to show weakness. Another similarity between her and the real Sam. Hey, maybe I should write a book on this!

"So, what are you saying?" I ask cautiously. Even though this is my mind, it's still Sam I'm talking to.

"I'm saying," She turns her face away from me, and speaks really quickly, "Ineedyourhelp," I stare at her blankly, not catching any of that.

"What?"

"I SAID..." Sam sighs, then repeats what she said, "I need your help to solve this. I can't do it on my own, but I gotta avenge Spencer!" It feels weird, referring to this world's Mr. Boddy as Spencer. Though they are everything alike, it's still weird. Surly they must have had SOME difference. But, other than the whole one's living in reality, and one's dead in my mind thing, I can't think of any.

"Okay, so you want me to help you solve this murder. Then what, we call the police?" I couldn't help but inquire. What exactly does she have planned for this guy? Then again, this is (To some extent) Sam, and she once beat up a hobo for spilling salsa on her. And she was wearing a red shirt! I don't get that chick in the slightest, but I can't exactly fight her now, can I?

"No, we beat up the hob-knocker, then you can call the police if you want. Forget about legal justice! This is vengeance, Fredward Plum, vengeance!" At this, she starts cackling madly. I don't feel quite sane at the moment, cause any other man would run out of here screaming. I sit her down on one of the theater chairs as she begins to breathe normally again. How long had she been laughing? Eh, like I was keeping track!

"So," She says coolly, as though nothing had happened, "Do we have a deal?"

I thought about it, puzzled. What I really want is to get out of this coma and beat up the guy who framed Sam. Then again, maybe this is some kind of test? I have no idea. A random thought just suggests I go along with it. Oddly enough, this is the same voice I listened to when Sam and I kissed... long story. I stare at her outstretched hand for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Then, I clutch her wrist firmly in my hand and shake gently.

"Deal,"


Was this a wise choice? Will Sam/Scar and Freddie/Plum find the murderer? How does this tie in with my other story? And WHY was Gibby so quiet earlier? AAHH!! It's the apocalypse!

Review and I might just save the world.