You have seen the picture that Dan put on his Twitter. Haven't you? You must've. ANYWAYS! I told you this story was more of a *kind of speculation* although obviously it would NEVER happen… I got the gas mask thing right. Didn't I! C'mon! I'm too good. No-one saw that coming. BUT me…yeah… even if it was Carly who had the gasmask on…

Link to pic (delete the spaces (well duh!)): http : / twitpic . com / 4tf3f2

Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly. Even though ^^^^this^^^^ makes it seem untrue.

CHAPTER 4- TO KILL A FLY

"12:16 AM Subjects are showing minimal movement. I have an amazing stimuli option in mind to make them react. Gibby! Get a fly from they courtyard… Easy, just put some honey on your palm and they'll- Well go on then. I feel the need to tell you that Gibby just said to me, 'Sure, always make Gibby catch a fly with honey…' Yeah…12:18 AM. Carly, out."

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Sam and Freddie found it easiest to do nothing at all. The thing they actually needed the most was to talk, and quite frankly, no matter what language they both knew and spoke in, some bizarre kid would translate it and everyone would know what, 'Don't tell Carly' meant. And that would be jank.

So instead of confronting their emotions like they would have been more than happy to, they were restricted to staring at themselves and each other in the mirror, not a word between them. Yeah, totally jank.

Freddie decided to lighten the cold, damp mood. He turned to face Sam and said, "Hey Sam, can you do this?" Freddie said, crossing his eyes.

Sam glared at Freddie, unimpressed. "Dude, everyone can do that, and if they can't then they are all 'Gibby's'. I can do it, see. Here is an insight to everybody's skill," Sam stopped talking to give Freddie an insight to everybody's skill. "Insight. Ha. Okay, I'm sorry. But honestly, wasn't that just-"

Sam was cut off by a microphone beep. Thanks Carly! That was such a bad pun…

Carly's entrance to the conversation was impending, yet appropriate…Forget I wrote that.

"So guys, how ya doing?. Having fun being our test subjects? Do you guys feel the need to attack us? When-"

"Hey Carly," Freddie said.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up," Sam inserted, " We're doing fine! No… not much fun at all. Oh and your doctor will wake up screaming. Are the answers to your questions suitable, or do I need to insert the word 'blackmail' in there somewhere."

"Sorry. It's cool," Carly quoted making Sam and Freddie shudder "Must I remind you guys that- Ah Gibby's back." Carly stopped as Gibby walked into the room, his hand curled around something. A fly to be exact…but Sam and Freddie didn't know that.

"Okay guys don't try to-" Carly began but was again interrupted, this time by Sam

What was Sam and Freddie's problem with interrupting Carly? So rude.

"Yeah, shut it! We know the drill…" Sam is so nice.

Carly's microphone beeped, so Sam and Freddie sat there, waiting for the first form of 'Carly blackmail'.

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According to witnesses of the live video feed, the next 41 seconds of Sam and Freddie's lives were hilarious.

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It began when Gibby put the fly into the chamber, through a tiny tube that led the lower left-hand corner right side ventilation duct… Did that sound right?…- ANYWAYS

41 seconds.

Sam and Freddie then realised that Carly's idea of black mail was to release a single fly into the chamber. Why?

I now quote Sam's original reaction, 'That poor single fly. Obviously not very good with the lady bugs. Okay. I'm sorry that was very bad… Continuing on…'

Yes Sam. That was not very punny. Okay now I'm sorry.

38 seconds.

Realisation leapt up a level as the pair realised how annoying the fly really was.

32 seconds.

Okay, that's enough.

Eventually, after getting up and randomly swatting the air, and also, accidentally, each others faces, Sam managed to smash the poor fly against the wall of the chamber. Nice.

Freddie picked up the microphone that was left on the floor. "…It that all?"

"Yes. Goodbye." Carly's microphone beeped,

"Slightly," they agreed together.

They sat back down. The dead fly looked unhappy being squashed against a wall. It was rather sad.

"What do you think happens after death Freddie?" Sam asked randomly after they had both resumed sitting.

"I don't know really," Freddie replied, uneasy. "But according to Greek legends we all go through a mystic waterfall, or something along those lines, and we forget everything from past lives and start a completely new one. Although some things from past lives remain… like a favourite colour."

Sam stared at him inquisitively. "So this is our final life?"

Now it was Freddie's turn to be confused. "How so?," he asked.

Sam sat up straight and continued, "If what you say is true, and we forget everything from previous lives… then... Okay think about it this way, when you forget something, it's like it never happened. At all. It never really did happen at all… Unless your forced to remember it. That's when you know it happened. If you get into an accident, god forbid, and you start singing a song to pass this time, you sing the lyrics as you know you know said them. As soon as you've said it, and you actually do remember saying it, it exists in your head, then you go onto the next line. No matter how many times you might've have been said before. As long as you remember it, it happened."

Freddie shook his head, still trying to wrap his head around the theory. "So… what your saying, is that the last time you actually pull the memory through the next 10 seconds. 41 seconds. Minute, Hour it happened. But if you don't…" Freddie stopped

Sam breathed in a lungful of air. "Everything happens but not all of it has it's place. What is the first thing you ever remember doing?"

Freddie really didn't need to think back. In first memory he ever really had of being alive, he had been itching his neck.

Freddie told that to Sam.

"So your first ever memory was you itching your neck. Lame," Sam laughed. But then remembered the point of their conversation and continued. "Because you remember that, you know it happened. Anything could have happened before that, but you have no idea of what. That's kind of what I was saying. If this is the true life we remember, then it must be our finale. It's because we are living right now, the fact that I can remember that your favourite number is not 34, the fact that I remember everything now, the fact that pink is a stupid colour and always will be. That's why this is final. If this was one of our middle lives, we'd forget until our last life. We would only remember existing in our final lives. Wouldn't we?"

Freddie pondered this strange theory. In a way she was correct. When a person has memory loss, nothing exists. Everything is false. Unless you found something to bring it back.

"I don't like talking about this anymore Sam, could we just… not talk about it? Please" Freddie exclaimed sadly.

Freddie didn't like to talk about death, not the obvious reasons, such as family deaths, bad childhood experiences… but because… If Sam's theory was proven to be true then everything never existed. In a way. If you can understand that. Right?

"Hey Sam?" Sam looked up at Freddie.

"Yeah?" She answered.

"Do you think we knew each other in a different life?" Freddie bit his lip, unsure of how Sam would react.

"Well I don't know what this means… but whenever I see picture you in my head you always have a green aura. Your name, when I imagine it written down in my head, is always printed on a hot-air balloon type-thingy and you remind me of mangos." Sam said, smiling at Freddie. "I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. But there you go."

Freddie smiled. "Whenever I imagine your name in my head, it's always written on very old paper with a typewriter and with a couple of ink splotches by it. You have an orange aura. And not so strangely enough, you don't remind me of weapons, you remind me of backpacks…," He stopped, but then thought better and added, "Yeah, I don't know."

It was kind of fun thinking about what people reminded him of, so he decided to do Carly.

"Hey Sam, what do you think Carly reminds you of? I see her with an almost purple aura. Her name when written down, in my head is very posh and she reminds my of yellow bath-tub ducks. How 'bout you?" Freddie inquired.

Sam found it relatively easy to respond. "Yellow aura. Um. A thin blue, messy letters in Carly's name and… uh… Denim Jeans. Easy as. Let's do Spence,-"

"Ouch!" They both yelled at the same time, as a sharp volt of electricity travelled through their bodies.

The microphone beep came back.

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Carly choked slightly as she realised that her subjects… pardon me, 'friends' were talking about her.

"Guys! Seriously!," Carly yelled into her microphone, "Don't talk about me!"

Sam and Freddie leapt up.

Freddie growled, "Well who are we supposed to talk about? Gibby? He's not interesting!"

"Well I don't know!," Carly said unhelpfully, "Just don't talk about me!"

"Hey Carly, calm down. Don't destroy our fun," Sam yelled back as Freddie handed her the microphone.

It was kind of annoying. First Carly kidnaps them and then- Then Carly blackmails then into keeping the kidnap part a secret and then- Then Carly gives them a fly to basically murder. Now that dead fly caused a discussion fit for people wearing suits and Carly's is telling them to shut up by electrocuting them.

"No. I refuse to. It's to much fun to destroy your fun. Speak about Spencer's aura. He won't mind, will ya Spence?… Oh you do… Well that's tough nails! Carly out."

It was strange, Carly was never this mean… maybe it was the recent iCarly comments she had been reading. Such… awkwardness… reading some of the comments (that really should have been monitored) that were posted on their innocent little '.com'. Yeah. Innocent.

Sam and Freddie sat back down. They obviously couldn't talk about Carly. It was okay, Carly was boring anyway. Or… that was Sam and Freddie's excuse.

"Tough nails," said Freddie, "Well that's just…"

"Yeah... now I don't know."

So they both sat back down. Back into the silence, waiting for Carly to provoke them.

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Freddie had a lot to think about. If this was his final life he would have to make the absolute best of it.

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"12:23 AM. Subjects have decided to stop talking about me. Good. Don't talk about Carly Shay. Bad idea. Well anyway our next experiment will involve- Wait one second! Freddie's phone is ringing. Interesting. Oh my God. Gibby! Look at Freddie's phone and at the caller ID. This is gonna be fun. Well I presume."

LINESMASH- Yeah. I decided to change it up.

I hope you realise that I have a short attention span and that- LOOK A guitar pick… Oh so shiny and this pick will now- LOOK a poster… ect. ect.