fandomhighdorms | First floor rec room, Friday evening -- iCarly broadcast!

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First floor rec room, Friday evening -- iCarly broadcast!

Sam had laid down tarps on the rec room floor and hung more from the walls, today, which couldn't possibly bode well. She was currently setting up two tables on either side of the room and laying out an assortment of warm -- not hot, she'd learned that lesson after the last big Puckett family dinner -- dishes. There was fried chicken, grilled chicken, chicken liver pate. Chicken meatballs, chicken salad, chicken alfredo, orange chicken, sweet and sour chicken, chicken soup, chicken gravy, pulled chicken, chicken fingers, and even a couple whole roast chickens.

It was really, really, really, really hard for her not to just dig in right away. Everyone should admire the hell out of her restraint.

But, dammit, she was determined to actually get to have a chicken fight on the show, tonight.

[ooc: The post is open and the food smells delightful!]

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. . . She could totally have one of the roast chickens, right? Or a drumstick?

But, dammit, that would give her less ammo later.

AGONY!

In five, four, three, two. . . .

"I'm a little bit country," said Carly.

"And I will EAT YOUR SOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUL!" said Sam.

"And she's apparently metal," said Carly. "And together, we're iCarly!"

Sam pushed a button on her remote to play some public domain metal, and they started rocking out.

Something not yet determined!

Someone who wanders in and wants to play a game like "Is Gibby wearing a hat, or criticizing a hamster?"

Between Sam and perhaps someone who wanders in and doesn't want to play "Is Gibby wearing a hat or criticizing a hamster?"

Or just Freddie.

Or she could attempt to eat it all herself.

It's allllmost the end of the showwwwww. . . .

But before Sam tries to escape any clean up.

Ping in here to plan guest starrage, or just pop into either "our special guest star" thread or the "chicken fight" thread!

"This is the best smelling episode we've ever had," Freddie remarked, also feeling hungry. "It's almost a crime that smell-o-vision for the internet hasn't been invented."

"Oh man, that'd be torture." Sam didn't sound unhappy about that prospect, though.

". . . The chicken fingers are calling my name." She held up two of the strips and moved them as if they were lips. "Listen to them: 'Sam! Sam, eat us, Sam! You know you want to!' Ohhh, I do, little chickeny strips. I do."

"You'd eat food that could talk to you?" Freddie said, thinking that rather weird. "That's... creepy."

"What? It's asking for it!" Sam thrust the chicken fingers at him. "Literally!"

"Yeah, but it just proved it could think!" Freddie said. "You'd eat things that are smart enough to think? That's, like, cannibalism!"

No. Not quite, Freddie.

"Freddie." Sam was starting to get annoyed, here. "They're chicken fingers."

"Yes, but," Freddie said. "You said you'd eat them if they actually talked! Which isn't so weird around here."

It was like he was trying to get into an argument.

"And they're asking me to eat them! What, you want me to say 'no, chicken fingers, I won't eat you, even though you're begging me with your big, juicy chickeness'. Have you met me?"

"I'm just saying you shouldn't eat things that can talk!" Freddie said.

Carly picked that moment to click onto the Seattle webfeed.

"It's not natural!" Freddie added.

"What's not natural?" Carly asked.

"Freddie's trying to tell me I'm not s'posed to eat chicken fingers!" Oversimplifications were part of Sam's forte. "Even when they're asking me to!"

"But she's pretending they can talk," Freddie said.

"...they're chicken fingers. Things chickens don't actually have, even. Settle down, Fredward," Carly said.

Freddie pouted. "Okay, fine," he finally relented.

"So I take it you're all ready for the chicken fight?" Carly added.

Sam held up the chicken fingers and made them say "'Locked and loaded!'"

Then she ate them.

"Stop eating the props!" Freddie said. "...though really only because that makes me want one, too."

He had a feeling Sam wouldn't be too willing to share, dating or not.

"Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally?" Sam asked. She picked up a meatball and made it dance in front of her face, adopting her newly established talking-meat voice. "Even if it's talkin'?"

"Well it's not talking, you're talking," Freddie said, totally feeling there was a distinction. "And no, I wouldn't eat you, in that case."

He stuck his tongue out at Sam. Oh so maturely.

"Hey, no lovers quarrels before the webshow," Carly ordered. "I will do things you two will regret."

Sam tossed the meatball to Freddie -- gently -- and nodded.

"She will, too. She's surprisingly vicious."

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First floor rec room, Friday evening -- iCarly broadcast!

Before the broadcast

The show!

Re: The show! - Opening bit

Re: The show! - and now presenting. . . .

Re: The show! - and here's our very special guest. . . .

Re: The show! - Chicken fight!

Re: The show! - closing bit

After the broadcast

OOC

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