Hey, everyone, I'm here with chapter twelve. Now, what happened was that I wrote this scene, then decided it wasn't really nessacery to the plot and started writing this chapter without this scene. But if I tried to write a chapter while skipping this, it didn't really turn out very good. :,( So, I realized that, while this chapter wasn't nessacery to the plot, it was vital to keeping the quality of the story, and so it stayed. Which is good, since I loved writing this scene, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Enjoy.

SAM

"Go faster!" I screamed at Freddie. I was sitting on my hands, resisting the urge to push him out the window, take the wheel, and floor it.

"I'm going at the legal speed limit, Sam," he said, his hands clenched around this steering wheel. "I'm not getting a ticket."

We were in Freddie's mom's car - which was a very nice car, probably because Mrs. Benson didn't want her wittle Fweddie Bear to have an unsafe car - driving to my house, to put a stop to Alyssa. The plan? Get there, break her hopes, dreams, and face, and lock her back up in Loony Ville.

At least, that was the plan. We were never going to get there if Benson didn't hurry up with the driving.

"If we don't hurry," I snapped, "Alyssa will take everything I own and make a run for it. She'll convince my mom to move to Vegas, and they'll be gone in an hour."

"Isn't that being kind of melodramatic?" Carly said from the back, trying to keep the peace.

"If you know my mom, not really."

"Do you know where they make Polish Fish?" Gibby asked as he gulped down on some candy he found at the mental hospital (I would tell him not to eat it, because it probably had whacky gas in it or something, but that would be just too funny if it did). "Because I don't think it's made in Polishland."

"Gibby!" Freddie growled.

I glared out the window, watching the rain slide down the glass. A yellow buggy with a prehistoric old lady rumbled past us, and the lady waved. I groaned. "That's it. Crazy hags older than Ms. Briggs are passing us. Give me the wheel."

He gaped at me. "No! Sam, you don't have your license!"

I snorted. "Yeah, like that's going to stop me."

"I can't just pull over on a busy street and switch seats with you," he said desperately.

"Just give it to me!" I yelled, frustrated. I reached over and grabbed the wheel, crawling into his seat. I was kind of sitting on him, but at this point I didn't care. "Let go!"

I could tell Freddie was full-out terrified. "No, no - Sam! Get off of me, I'm driving, I'm the legal driver! This is breaking so many rules!" I kicked his ankle, shoving my foot onto the pedal. But Freddie's foot really wanted to stay on that pedal. It pushed my foot half off of it, so that we were both kind of driving. I'm sure it wasn't legal, but there was no way I was backing down.

"I know what I'm doing!"

"You got kicked out of driver's ed for crashing two cars. Let go!"

"Never! My entire life is at stake!" By this point, we were both yelling our heads off.

"You're so stupid -"

"No, no, no, just let go, Sam, sit down!"

And then Carly started freaking out. "Oh my God, oh my God. Guys, we're going to get arrested. Guys, calm down, guys! Sam! Freddie! Stop yelling. Oh my God!" Gibby started to say something, but none of us were paying attention.

Suddenly, the front of the car slammed into something, jolting both the car and our screaming match into a standstill. Carly shrieked. I jumped, and both me and Freddie's foot slid off the pedal.

"I was trying to tell you guys we were going to crash into a telephone pole," Gibby said in an annoying I-told-you-so voice.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Without opening my eyes, I said, "Gibby, I'm telling you that if you don't get out of this car in thirty seconds, I will take my foot, and crash it into your face."

Gibby crossed his arms. "You don't scare me, Sam."

"Twenty-seven seconds."

"All right, I'm going!" Gibby shrieked. He yanked the door open, not flinching at the rain pounding down, and began to run down the street.

Carly sighed. "Do you two have to be so mean to him? I don't think they afford that much ther-"

A cop taped on the window, interrupting Carly's lecture. I sucked in my breath. If the cops recognized me from last time, I was screwed.

Then I took another look, and realized that I recognized him. I felt a slow smile spread over my face. I had this in the bag.

Carly began breathing faster and faster. "That's it. We're dead. Oh, God, I'm gonna have an asthma attack."

Freddie glared at me. "Look what you did, Sam!" He hissed. "You got us arrested, and it looks like the front of car is totaled."

"And you look like someone who never wants to be kissed again," I retorted. "Would you two calm down? I got this. Roll down the window."

Freddie looked like he was about to give me backtalk, then reconsidered and reluctantly rolled down the window.

"Good evening," Carly said hesitantly.

The cop stuck his head in our window, looking bitter. "Oh, yes. It was a fine evening until I saw you hooligans driving down the street like you were being chased by Bigfoot. I had to leave my son's ballet recital to stop you nuts."

"Your son does ballet?" I said skeptically. "Isn't that a little -"

"Manly," Freddie interrupting, clumsily throwing a hand over my mouth as he sucked up to the cop. "Very manly."

The cop was obviously trying to decide whether or not to respond to my implied jab at his . After a moment, he said, "Which one of you two is the driver?" He pointed to both me and Freddie.

"I am, sir," Freddie said, elbowing me. I took the hint and scooted back into the passenger seat.

"Then, I am going to have to give you four tickets," the cop said, taking out his notepad.

"Four tickets?" Freddie repeated, stunned.

"One for speeding, one for the blonde not wearing a seatbelt, one for hitting a telephone pole, and one for parking in a no-parking zone."

Carly stared at him. "But we crashed!"

"You're still in a no-parking zone. I haven't forgotten what you did to Carl," the officer snapped. "He had a reputation. Now the hobo by Market Bucket laughs at him."

Time to save our butts. "Well, if you remember iCarly, then you must remember me," I said innocently. "Sam Puckett, the girl you paid to tell her mother you died. It's nice to see you again, Jake."

The officer jerked his head up, banging it against the roof of the car. When he saw me, his eyes widened like he'd seen the devil. "Oh my God," he whispered hoarsely. Carly raised her eyebrow, still nervous. Freddie looked confused for a second, then his face cleared up and he nodded as he realized what was going on.

"If you miss her, it wouldn't be any trouble for me to tell her you're really still alive, and that she can find you at the Seattle Police Department," I went on, examining my nails as if I was very interested in them. "No. Trouble. At. All."

Officer Jake gave me the evil eye. "What do you want?"

"Don't give us any tickets." I said, all business. "Pay for Freddie's car to be fixed. If it can't, get him a new one. A nice one. And give us fifty bucks."

"Look, Sam, I can't just forget about the tickets and pay for some random loser's car to be -"

"My mother used to call you her cuddly ducky-wucky."

"Okay, okay, I'm getting the money!" He yanked out his wallet and gave me five tens. "Go bananas!"

"Thanks! C'mon guys, let's go!" I jumped out of Freddie's wrecked car without looking back. Freddie and Carly followed quietly, and we walked across the street to a bus stop where we could get out of the rain.

"I'm not going to ask what your mom did to that cop," Carly said as soon as stopped. "But I'm sure glad she did it."

"What's the fifty bucks for?" Freddie asked. "From our apartment building to your house it only takes about twenty for a cab, and we've got about half that distance to go."

"I ran out of smoothie money last week," I said proudly. "And that cop really did owe me." Oh, the power of blackmail.