


F My Life

by maddiee.xx



Category: iCarly
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2013-09-30 08:25:07
Rating: T
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,395
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5598440/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2117306/maddiee-xx
Summary: My favorite FML moments on poor Carly, Sam, and Freddie. Please review!





	1. iCake

**These are my own favorite FML moments. Just decided to make poor Carly, Sam, and Freddie live through them. :] HAHA! Ahem. Yeah. This takes place in the future by the way. The golden trio are all 27. Here ya go.**

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**-Chapter One-  
****-iCake-  
****-Sam's POV-**

It's no secret that I love ham, meat, tacos, and, well, anything that rots your teeth to the core. That's probably why I, Sam Puckett, age 27, work at the local bakery as a cake decorator. Yeah, fascinating work isn't it. I also answer the phones when someone calls in for an order and I have to say our really cheesy catchphrase—"Hello, this is Samantha at Schneider's Bakery, if you can dream it, you can eat it!" Yeah, stupid. I suggested a better one, but apparently this one's here to stay.

Anyway, today the phone rang just as I was putting out a _fabulous_ birthday cake. Trust me, it was amazing. I was so proud of myself and _dying_ to eat it. But the phone rang so I answered with that cheesy catchphrase and a smile ("Smile! They can hear it in your voice," says my boss, Dan). "Hello, this is Samantha at Schneider's Bakery, if you can dream it, you can eat it!"

"Hello, I would like to request a wedding cake for me and my beautiful new fiancée," said a man. I heard giggling after he said 'beautiful new fiancée'. Yeah, lady, grow up. "It _has_ to be cheesecake, and with vanilla frosting. I don't care what's on it. It just _has_ to look beautiful."

"Alright, can I have you pick it up around three this afternoon?" I asked, scribbling down his order.

"Sure," he said. "Thanks a lot. Before I forget, can I have our wedding date on it?" He told me what the date was and I added that. Finally, we hung up, and I got started.

Jerris, our chef, brought out the cheesecake I asked for and I got started—I threw on some vanilla frosting, and got out my decorating tools. I had red frosting for details, and made a rose in the middle of the cake. This better not be a big wedding for what this man was asking for. I also added the date, and a 'rope' for decoration. I also threw on some bows, too.

I stood back and admired my work. Making this cake kind of hit me hard. Three years ago Freddie and I were engaged—hard to believe, I know—and I had looked _beautiful_. I was wearing a beautiful wedding dress designed especially for me by Tureen, who was now a famous fashion designer. Valerie, despite being jealous of me and Freddie, helped me with my makeup and hair. I felt like a model.

We had planned a private wedding, only the closest family and friends, and decided to spring for a big wedding once we settled down a bit.

After one hour I thought maybe he was running late. Three people had left.

After two hours I thought maybe the bus had broken down. Seven more people left.

After five hours I thought maybe the bus went to the wrong city. Only my mom and Melanie were left.

After the reception would have been over for an hour I thought maybe he never got on that bus at all. No one was left, other than me.

The bell rang in the shop. I looked up and saw a man, around thirty at the oldest, and his stunning bride. She _was_ beautiful.

They looked at the cake. "Wow, this is beautiful," the woman said.

"I tried not to eat it," I said, half-joking, half-serious.

The man slapped his credit card on the counter. I took it and ran it through the computer. Suddenly I looked down at the card. The picture was so familiar, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. But then I noticed the name on the card. "_Fredward Benson._" I was in shock. Okay, there was _no way_ this was _my_ Freddie. The machine denied his card.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it denied your card," I said after running it through again. The woman got her credit card out of a Gucci and Gabana purse—spoiled, no doubt, by this Benson guy—and put it on the counter. "_Carly Shay._" Okay, so maybe it _was_ my Freddie.

It worked. I wanted it to be denied.

I gave the cake to them, and just as they were about to leave, I called, sarcastically, "Thanks for inviting me to your wedding, Fredward."

He turned around. "_Sam?_"

At that point, I was flipping him off.

Guess who was almost fired that day.

**Real FML:  
**"**Today, at my job as a cake decorator in a bakery, I put the finishing touches on the wedding cake of the man who left me at the altar 3 years ago. FML"**

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**Hope you liked it!**


	2. iRaq

**-Chapter Two-  
****-Spencer's POV-  
****-iRaq-**

I was enlisted to go to Iraq about two years ago. To be honest, I'm surprised they let me go. I was 41 but I'm in great physical shape. I just came back about ten months ago. I didn't have anywhere to go, so I had to move back in with Carly and her fiancée. My room is still like it was when I was ten. I refuse to change it.

But while I was in Iraq, I was once in a ditch with no ammunition and people were shooting at me. I was told I was lucky to be alive today, and truly I am.

But now being back in Seattle, I've been having horrible night terrors of that one day when I was in a ditch. It's a reoccurring dream and it really freaks me out. Every morning I wake up and am surprised that I'm safe in Carly's apartment. I try to continue my daily life but it's so difficult, what with those horrible images of Iraq.

Today I took a nap while Carly and her fiancée, Freddie, went out to go pick up their wedding cake, and I had the dream again. When Carly came back, I was screaming in my sleep.

"Spencer!" she said, the worry in her voice obvious. Freddie came in, the worry on his face obvious as well.

"Carly!" I said, glad to be back in Seattle.

"Hold on, just let me put our cake away," she said, going to the refrigerator and putting away the famous white box that holds cake.

"Hey, isn't it weird that _Sam_ was working at the bakery?" Freddie asked. I pretended to be shocked that Sam would end up working at a bakery. I hadn't seen Sam in three years; it was kind of shocking to hear that she was still in Seattle.

"Strange," she said. "I wonder what her deal was…?"

"No clue," Freddie said, obviously lying. However, Carly didn't catch on.

"So, what's up, Spencer?" Carly asked after she had carefully put away their wedding cake and got three glasses of iced tea. She handed one to Freddie, put one down on the table in front of me, and held one in her hands and sipped it.

I explained _everything_ to her, including the way that I couldn't move—I thought I was paralyzed at the time, but I was just so terrified and in so much pain that I couldn't move at all. I left out one detail, though—that all of this happened to me while I was in Iraq. Finally, Freddie was quiet and I couldn't do anything but stare wistfully at my drink.

Finally, Carly snapped, "Okay, Spencer, you're _41._ This dream shouldn't be freaking you out! Now stop being a whiny brat, and grow up and be a man!"

**Real FML:  
"Today, I told my mom about my night terrors in which I am laying in a ditch with people shooting at me and I have no ammunition to defend myself. She told me I should stop being such a whiny bitch, and grow up and be a man. I am 20 and got back from Iraq 10 months ago. FML"**

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**i love this story :] please review.**


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