The arena went dark, and the only lights left on were those positioned above the wide, wooden stage. The crowd stared as they waited for Sam Puckett to do her performance for the '2010 Seattle Junior Beauty Pageant'. The majority of the audience members were unacquainted with Sam, and thus they could not know how extraordinarily out of character this would be for her. Especially considering she was slated to do a dance routine. One particular audience member however did know Sam. He was making his way surreptitiously down the center aisle, trying to find an open seat.

"Excuse me, pardon me," Freddie whispered as he entered a row. He saw a vacancy in the middle of it.

"Ow!" cried a young voice. It belonged to a three-year-old, on whose foot Freddie apparently stepped.

"Mommy!" the three-year-old whined. Freddie was soon smacked by a purse and sent crashing onto the ground. Dazed but still determined, he crawled the rest of the way on his hands and knees and pulled himself up into his predetermined seat. He heaved a sigh of relief.

Freddie had just finished his last date no more than a half-an-hour ago. Things had gotten pretty competitive with Spencer, much more than either had anticipated. He hadn't been planning on attending Sam's pageant, but since Spencer conceded to him as the better dater (although Spencer pointed out he had never worn his suit), and since the pageant was being held at the nearby Seattle Cobra's arena, Freddie thought he'd stop by. Not out of any loyalty or support for Sam. He was more interested in the rumored swimsuit competition. Plus, if Sam messed up or did anything really embarrassing, he could always use it to blackmail her in the future. Which is why he brought in a disguised camera.

'And they said it would never come in handy,' Freddie mused while he withdrew 'The Pie Spy.'

"Hey, where did you get the pie?" said the person sitting to his left. Freddie was about to answer when he stopped. He knew that voice.

"Gibby?" He turned to his left and saw Gibby's familiar figure. Between his legs was a bowl of popcorn.

"Sup?" Gibby replied, nodding his head. Unlike Freddie, he didn't seem so surprised to find himself sitting next to a fellow classmate.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"I always go to the 'Junior Beauty Pageant'." Gibby said. He answered like this should have been obvious.

"Do you know when the swimsuit contest comes up?"

"It already happened. And may I say, this year the contestants were sublime."

"Aw man!" Freddie hit his leg in frustration. That just killed half the night.

"So, how about that pie?"

"It's a fake!" Freddie snapped, a bit harsher than he intended. He immediately regretted it.

"Well fine! So are you!" Gibby angrily shoveled a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

"Gibby, I'm sorry."

"Do not, address me," Gibby garbled. His words were muffled due to his munching. Freddie let a long pause follow. He licked his lips.

"So can I have some popcorn?" He got sprayed by tiny half-eaten pieces instead.

"NO!" Freddie crossed his arms and mumbled sullenly to himself.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Ms. Samantha Puckett," announced a mechanically amplified voice. Freddie forgot his soiled relations with Gibby and straightened with interest. "Ms. Puckett will be performing her own rendition of 'I Wanna Be Loved By You.'"

A smile exploded on Freddie's features. 'I Wanna Be Loved By You?' 'I Wanna Be Loved By You?' When did Sam turn into such a priss? Freddie fervently joined the audience in clapping, easily the loudest one. Oh he'd get Sam alright! He'd get her fine and dandy one of these days. And the best part was (since she thought he was still trying to out-date Spencer), she'd never see it coming.

Old vaudeville style music started playing, and the heavy crimson curtain rose up on-stage. The background was painted to resemble a 1920's city corner, with streets, buildings, and lithium lamps. Several seconds passed, and then out into view came sauntering, actually sauntering, Sam, twirling a black baton with a white bulbous handle. She was wearing a tight-fit, sparkling red-dress, with white gloves, red lipstick, navy eyeshadow, and her usual hairdo, though with more curls and flourishes than normal. When she began to sing, her face remained completely serious, and only her lips and throat moved. It was as if her other facial muscles were paralyzed.

I wanna be loved by you, just you, and nobody else but you.

Ba-dum-bum, went the music. Sam had stationed her baton vertically on the stage floor and jerked her hips to the beat.

I wanna be loved by you, alooooooooooone.
Boop-boop, bee doo, oooooooo,
I wanna be kissed by you, just you, and nobody else but you,

Ba-dum-bum, went the music, and Sam's hips.

I wanna be kissed by you, alooooooooooone.
Boop-boop, bee doo.

Sam raised the baton horizontally in front of her and began doing alternating leg-kicks.

In his seat, Freddie was howling. This was great! It was better than great, it was perfect. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine he'd get to see Sam humiliating herself like this in public. And he was digitally recording it!

Laughing, Freddie stole a fistful of popcorn before Gibby could protest. He stuffed the buttery morsels in his face as he cackled, raising the piece of pie higher to get a better angle. This was going on Splashface.

I couldn't aspiiiiiiiiirrrrre,
To anything hiiiiiiiiiiiiiigherrrr,
Then filled with desiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrre,
To make you my own,
Bum-bum bee dum, boop-boop a doop, oooooooooooooooo.

A flock of male backup singers waltzed on stage and gathered in a big circle around Sam. They admired her with exaltation.

She wants to be loved by you, just you, and nobody else but you,

Ba-dum-bum. Sam placed a finger to her lower lip, grinning girlishly.

"Uh-huh. Mmm-hmm. It's true." she sang.

She wants to be loved by you, alooooooooooone.
Boop-boop, bee doo.

In a sudden flash of movement, Sam literally whipped off her dress and threw it into the audience. She was now wearing a white tank top and very short pink shorts. The Pie Spy bobbled in Freddie's grip. He had not been expecting that. He was now gazing at more of Sam's legs than he had ever seen in his whole life. Freddie tugged at his collar with his free hand.

"Ahem, it's getting kind of hot in here," he chuckled nervously. He peered at Gibby, but the Gibson boy was only watching the spectacle with scholarly interest.

"Ah yes, excellent form," Gibby said to himself. He stroked his chin with a finger.

I couldn't aspiiiiiiiiirrrrre,
To anything hiiiiiiiiiiiiiigherrrr,
Then filled with desiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrre,
To make you my own,
Bum-bum bee dum, boop-boop a doop, oooooooooooooooo.

The baton was now being repeatedly guided between and around Sam's scantily clad legs. Freddie squirmed in his seat. Sweat-drops beaded on his forehead. With every second, he was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He had also recently realized that Sam's tight tank top accentuated certain aspects of her anatomy, and this only worsened his situation. This was not the way you were supposed to think about friends. Or enemies. Or frenemies!

"It's almost like she's...doing this on purpose!" A light-bulb flickered on in Freddie's head.

"No way!" he exclaimed.

"Do you mind?!" Gibby said. He shook his head with disgust. "Amateur." iCarly's technical producer meanwhile watched the rest of Sam's performance in a cloud of stunned disbelief.

I wanna be loved by you, just you, and nobody else but you,
I wanna be loved by you,
Buh-dum bee-dum bee-dum bee-dum, boop a doop.

Sam blew her spectators a kiss and bowed, her long hair spilling over like a golden waterfall as the curtain came down and removed her from sight. Amidst the rows of seats, Freddie shot up and prepared to make a mad dash. If Sam somehow did learn he was coming, and did that little number to intentionally fluster him, then he wasn't giving her the satisfaction of finding out. However, when Freddie stumbled out of his row, he also stumbled into two very familiar people.

"Freddie?" Carly said. "What are you doing here?"

"And why are you all sweaty?" Sam added, none too pleasantly. Freddie blinked several times with confusion, first at Carly, then at Sam. He donned a look of pure incredulity at the blonde. His neck swiveled in the direction of the stage, and then back at the girl standing in front of him.

"But how...you...?"

"Ehh, Melanie was in town so I had her do it. You seriously didn't think I was going to do that stupid routine, did you?"

A second light-bulb ignited in Freddie's head. Horror flooded his visage.

"Hey, is that a gun in your pocket?" Sam asked. Jarred out of his realization, Freddie glanced down at his jeans.

"Oh my God!" Carly exclaimed. Her hands clamped over her mouth in chagrin and she closed her eyes tightly. A huge grin formed on Sam's face.

"Melanie turned you on?!" Sam cried. She was the one howling now. "Oh it's a gun alright! Careful, don't shoot!" Sam started skipping in circles around Freddie.

"Freddie thinks Melanie's hooooooot, Freddie thinks Melanie's hooooooot," she sang. She then froze. "Wait a minute. If you think Melanie's hot, then you must think I'm hot!" The blonde's already colossal grin tripled in size. Sam dodged a murderous swipe from Freddie and ran away, laughing at the top of her lungs. Freddie tried to chase after her, but given his current physiological state, this was rather difficult. He seethed in rage.

"PUCKETT!"

Disclaimer - I do not own iCarly, it characters, nor any other shows, characters, music, and/or movies that may be referenced.

AN: If anyone wants to hear the song "I wanna be loved by you," I put a link to it in my profile. It's not the original, but it's the funniest version of it I've ever heard. Just picturing Sam (or Melanie) singing it like that makes me laugh. I changed it up a bit, but I figured it's okay since it's a rendition. I also referenced an older actress. Something the real Sam says to Freddie. Can anyone guess who?