I know, I know...I said this was on hiatus. Well now it's not. I'm just not updating as...frequently.

It was after school and I was lounging with Carly on her couch. She was done with her homework and I wasn't done with not doing my homework. We were bored so naturally we turned to Girly Cow for entertainment. About an hour later, I was starving. Specifically, I craved for my most favorite thing in the world: ham.

"Imma be raidin' your fridge, Carls."

She responded with a grunt.

I walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge door. Peering inside, I saw corn, broccoli, squash (the horror!), a bowl of clams, and countless bottles of condiments. But the Pink Deliciousness was still missing. I started to get worried, but then I remembered the emergency ham drawer. (Warning: Use only in case of serious hamergency!) I pulled open the drawer to find...nothing?

"Noooooooo! Say it ain't so!"

I turned to find Carly looking at me curiously, though still in a half-sitting, half-laying position.

"Where'd the emergenham go!"

She raised her eyebrows. "You ate it the other day. Sam, you have a hamergency every day. Spencer's probably out right now buying some ham for you to finish in 5 minutes."

I took a few deep breaths. "You're right. I guess I'm just—"

Spencer burst through the door. "What up party people!"


He caught sight of me and chuckled nervously.

"Oh, sorry, Sam. I forgot to buy some ham. But I did buy rainbow toilet paper!"

"Rainbow toilet paper? Who gives a flying rat's ass about rainbow toilet paper! I'M GONNA DIE!"

Spencer's eyes widened. "Isn't that a little too serious a subject to be throwing arou—"

I pushed past him, sending him crashing into the bottle-bot.


I was in the lobby in a second and half way out the door before I remembered didn't have any money. After another split second run up and down eight flights of stairs, I was in front of the Quik shop across the street with $10 of Spencer's hard earned cash.


I walked through the automatic doors and made my way to the packaged meats.

Salami, bologna, oven-roasted turkey, pepperoni, hot dogs, sausages, bacon (so close!), but no ham. I ran to the cashier and grabbed his collar.

"Where's the ham?"

He replied with a frightened look on his face.

"Someone just came in a bought all the ham! It was the weirdest thing. He asked for all of it."


I shoved him away. Maybe another store still had some ham. I dashed outside. The sun was going down and I still hadn't eaten any ham. I ran to the grocery store a couple blocks down the street.


Same story. All their ham had just been cleaned out.

Another three stores. The same three stories.

By now, I was frustrated. Who the hell buys all the ham in the city?

I spotted a deli tucked away between a record shop and a law firm. My hope was restored. A deli would definitely have ham. I made my way inside.


The fat man at the counter asked, "Can I help you, miss?"

I growled, "You can help me by getting me some goddamn ham!"

He looked apologetic. "I'm sorry but we just ran out."

"SWEET LUCIFER! How can you say that so calmly?" I ran around end of the counter and shoved him against the wall. "Tell me who bought all the ham. Now."

The man stuttered, beads of sweat rolling down his face like rivers after a spring thaw. "I-I don't know. I-It was some k-kid. Average h-height. B-brown hair."

I shoved him again. "That doesn't help at all! Tell me more."


"U-uh, I don't know, I guess he sorta looked like- like a nerd. Talked in complete sentences with proper grammar. Ironed pants, collared shirt, you know...the works."

"What color was the shirt?" I asked suspiciously.

"Um, I think it was blue. Yeah, that was it. Blue. And striped.

I dropped him to the ground.

That bitch.

I smashed through the automatic doors and pounded down the street. (No, I didn't. But that would've been awesome, right?)

After waiting for automatic doors to open, I left the deli angrier than I had been when I went in. Usually it didn't work that way. Usually, I came out with a blissful expression, birds flying through the air and the sun shining happily upon me as I chewed on a scrumptious slice of ham. Usually.

But not today.

Today was the day Freddie Benson begged for nonexistent mercy.

Sam Puckett showed no mercy.

Sam Puckett ripped people to shreds regardless of size, gender, age, hair color, or income.

Now I had two things on my mind.







"Raaaawwwrrr!" I let out a war cry, alarming several passersby.

And I took off faster than you could say, "Holy shit, Freddie, Sam's gonna murder you!"

Minutes later, I decided that stomping off in a random direction was just as effective as trying to cut a steak with a tennis ball.

Not very effective at all.

Using my critical thinking skills, I narrowed down the list of possible places Freddie could be to three options.

In Bushwell Plaza

Not in Bushwell Plaza

In the doorway of Bushwell Plaza

Time to teach a lesson.

I burst through the Bushwell doors (Freddie wasn't in the doorway) and stared around, breathing heavily.


Lewbert ran out from behind his desk, his face looking like a clenched fist, screaming, "NO HOMICIDAL INTENTIONS IN MY LOB—"

I punched him in the stomach and he collapsed. I carefully stepped around his body and headed towards the stairwell. He would be expecting the elevator.

As I exited the stairwell on the eighth floor, I looked up to see Freddie leaning casually against his door. I considered this a big mistake on his part. I began to run. He must have heard my footsteps because next thing I knew he turned and smiled at me.


What kind of an idiot smiled before they're about to be killed?

"Hey, Sam," he greeted loudly.


What kind of an idiot greeted his killer?


Someone who doesn't know he's about to be murdered, that's who. I pounced.


I had him in a headlock and he was struggling to breath. I whispered into his ear.

"You're dead."


"You have two seconds."

Freddie's arm reached out, his fingers trying to close around the door knob to Carly's apartment.


"Is it a trap?"

He attempted to shake his head.

"No. Swear."

I dragged him to the door and held him in front of me like a shield. I cautiously eased open the door. It was dark inside. I groped the wall in search of the light switch and when I found it, I flipped it.


I dropped Freddie to the ground with a thud.

Everyone, and I mean everyone, was stuffed into Carly's apartment. There was Gibby, Tasha, Wendy, Wesley, Griffen, a bunch of other kids from school, my mom, Melanie, T-Bo, Principal Franklin, Socko, Taylor, and their family, and countless other people that I didn't even know.

Carly came out of the crowd, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"So? How do you like it?"

"What's this? Some sort of intervention? 'Cuz I'm not giving up ham. Or fat cakes for that matter."

"No, silly," she rubbed my head affectionately, "it's your birthday!"

I gaped at her and she laughed. Somewhere in the days of school and iCarly and life in general my birthday had slipped my mind. I had actually forgotten my own birthday! Someone turned on some music and people started dancing and stuff. Streamers were thrown all around the room, funky hats were passed out, and a banner was quickly raised.


"Did you this?" I asked her.

Carly nodded. "Yeah, Freddie and I planned it."


"Yep. He helped out a lot."

"No, I mean," I explained guiltily, "I kinda had him in a headlock and was about to kill him."

I turned around to see Freddie still on the ground gasping for air amidst all the partiers. I gestured for Carly to help me pick him up. I grabbed his arms while she grabbed his legs and we hoisted him onto the couch where he croaked out a, "Thanks."

Carly scolded me. "Sam! Why'd you try to kill him?"

I shrugged, again feeling guilty. "He took all the ham from every store in the neighborhood."

"Oh," she said, then suddenly, "OH!"

She looked at him. "Did you actually do it?"

He smirked smugly.

Carly looked excited. She jumped up from the couch, pulling me up along with her.

"C'mon, help me get Freddie up. We've got something to see."

We each took an arm, supporting his weight as he attempted to find balance. I guess I was really serious. I was glad he managed to point at the Carly's door; otherwise he might have been seriously killed. With an arm draped around Carly and me, he led us out of the apartment and across the hall to his door.

"Reach into my pocket and get my key," he rasped.

"Ew, no!"

He rolled his eyes. "Just do it."


I gingerly stuck my hand in his pocket trying to touch as little as possible. When I finally found the key, I quickly took it out and opened the door. We walked in and Carly turned on the light.

At first, I couldn't believe my eyes.

"I-Is this...for real?"

"Happy birthday, Sam. You rock."

It was all the ham. All of it. Freddie bought it all for me. That bitch. That crazy, nerdy, thoughtful, bitch.

I spun around and hugged him tight.

"I'm sorry for trying to kill you earlier. I thought you were just doing it to prank me."

"I think I learned my lesson from the first time."

"Well, I'm sorry," I kissed him on the cheek before I knew what I was doing, "And thanks."

I'm Sam Puckett and things are lookin' great right about now.

Aw, how nice. A bit random, but I have to stick with the pattern.


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