hurtingzeebo: (I'm proud of myself)
Sam was all dressed up. She had on her rattiest, dirtiest clothes, extra ripped just for the occasion, and drizzled with barbecue sauce. She had a pale green foundation on, with excess, smeared eyeliner creating a very baggy effect around her eyes, and more barbecue sauce around her mouth, over black lipstick. She had her hair fluffed out into oblivion. With just a touch more barbecue sauce.

Look, it hadn't been easy to get all of that on her without eating it all, okay?

Last but not least, she had the soy brain from Diversity class out of its jar and leaking soy brain juice all over her hands. She'd put some more barbecue sauce on it, too, not just for texture. She expected it was going to taste pretty wretched.

Now all she needed was her oh-so-gullible and oh-so-traumatizable boyfriend to arrive, and she'd be all set.

[ooc: for him what's mentioned in the narrative, though it can be open for after that.]
hurtingzeebo: (I'm yelling)
Sam had never thought a whole lot about it, but if you asked, she'd probably tell you she'd be okay with having a kid someday.

DB was rapidly changing her mind. He wasn't nearly so cute when he wasn't whacking his assigned father in the head with his stuffed ewok.

For instance: He'd already managed to spit up all over her collection of hammers, and tried to eat her phone. Apparently, having accomplished these tasks, he'd moved on to the next part of his evil plan: crying.

Not even crying, really. Wailing.

Sam was handling this behavior in the only way she knew how: she wailed right on back at him.

[ooc: door is closed, but lord knows they're probably making plenty of noise. Open.]
hurtingzeebo: (I'm Freddie says what now?)
Sam woke up to the sound of the world's dorkiest ring tone. She groped around for her hammer to smash it with, but it wasn't in reach, so she finally gave in and answered the damn phone.

"H'lo?"

"Fredward!" said the voice on the other end. "You're not just waking up, are you?"

Sam blinked. "Mrs. Benson? Freddie's not here right now."

"That is not funny, young man! You should have been up to double-poo hours ago!"

Sam snickered. "Poo." Then gradually realized that her voice sounded weird. And she'd been sleeping in a funny position, all laid out flat with her head on the actual pillow. And she had . . . bits that weren't usually there. "Did I turn into a boy again?"

"Are you ill? Fredward, take your temperature! I think you have a fever!"

Sam turned the laptop on the nearby desk around and switched on the webcam. And then stared. "Oh sweet mother of chiz."

"FREDWARD BENSON! You go wash your mouth out with soap this instant!"

This? Was going to be a loooooooooooong day.

[ooc: specifically for one.]
hurtingzeebo: (I love this video)
Sam hadn't noticed any oddness about, today. She'd spent her time lying around, trying to watch the most disgusting videos she could find on the internet and catching up with what people were saying online about iCarly.

Jack pledging allegiance to Gibby's underpants had been a hit, but not as much as she and Karla attacking each other with chicken. Though a lot of those comments requested that next time, they use jello.

The internet was so weird.

[ooc: mostly for one, but also open.]
hurtingzeebo: (I've been mud-ed)
Sam had taken her time making her way back up to her room from Special Collections, still rather muddy, with war paint streaks on her cheeks, her spear clutched in her hand.

She was going to miss that wacky little pig hunting island.

She made it back to her room and immediately booted up her computer, checking to see if it could get an internet connection, and then heading to iCarly.com to make sure it had come back properly, then sent Carly a v-chat request.

Carly answered right away, looking amused. "What are you wearing?"

Sam smiled broadly, hugging her spear. All was right in her world.

[ooc: expecting one, but also open]
hurtingzeebo: (I like to hit things)
"Alright, class!" said Miss Zarves. "It's dictionary time!"

Virginia cheered. Sam woke up from her nap.

"What? Is it lunch?"

"What's lunch?" asked Nick. Sam stared at him, appalled, then looked at Virginia.

"We have to get lunch," she said. "It's a law or something. I demand lunch!"

Yeah, 'cause that'll work )

It was a jungly elsewhere, a sharp, mountainy jungly elsewhere. A wild pig blasted out of the underbrush near her, squealing in terror.

"Kill the pig!" A chorus of voices chanted. "Cut her throat! Drink her blood!"

Sam nodded to herself. "Now this is more like it."

[ooc: NFI. Sam is now in Lord of the Flies. Be afraid. Be very afraid.]
hurtingzeebo: (I'm confused)
Sam had gotten bored of the toadstools, and frankly, the D&D thing just seemed way too nubbish for her style, so after some deliberation, she'd wandered off. She figured if this place had giant mushrooms in it, it would surely have some sort of catchable game, too.

She didn't get far before the toadstools thinned out, and she found herself instead standing on a landing in a very tall stairwell.

As you do )

[NFI. Sam has found herself in the nonexistent nineteenth story from the Wayside School series.]
hurtingzeebo: (I'm asleep)
It was early, and Sam didn't have classes on Mondays, so she was, of course, fast asleep.

"Mmmm . . . you are so hot . . . I think I'm in love . . . you want to . . . okay, just pass the gravy. . . ."

[ooc: for an expected one, up late due to clashing schedules]
hurtingzeebo: (I'm asleep)
If anyone asked, Sam would say she was meditating.

Or, rather, she would say something like "I dunno, what's your face doing?" but she was telling herself that she'd say she was meditating.

This was what happened when one ate two delivery turkeys by onesself in one afternoon.

[ooc: expecting one, but the post is open for anyone else wanting to wander by.]
hurtingzeebo: (I feel pretty)
Sam had spent all weekend putting together this plan. It was perfect. Soon, she'd get that little twit Carly for stealing her uncle/boyfriend while he was amnesiac after recovering from brain surgery on his fifth fatal cancer. And now was finally the time to put it into action. She had the webcam on her computer set up, her outfit carefully crafted to make Carly's eyes bleed with jealousy. She took a breath, and hit "send" on her face-chat invite.

[ooc: had to get in at least something of another character this weekend. Door is closed, post is open. Should a particular canon-mate arrive, theirs is the last thread.]
hurtingzeebo: (I'm a honey badger and I don't care)
Sam the honey badger had made her honey badgery way* back to her room, and was in the process of gleefully shredding one of her pillows when the world seemed to stutter, and suddenly the honey badger was no more.

In its place was Sam the human girl, crouched naked on the floor, her mouth full of pillow fluff.

Sam blinked, frowned, chewed thoughtfully, then spat the fluff explosively across the room.

Sam the honey badger might not have cared, but Sam the human girl preferred not to eat fluff, unless it was the sugary marshmallow variety.

[* in other words, she chased a gremlin.
Mostly establishy, but the door is cracked open, should anyone care to stumble upon Sam the no-longer-a-honey-badger.]
hurtingzeebo: (I love this video)
When Sam got back from her still being played out adventures in petty vandalism, she planned on kicking back with some leftover mammoth and enjoying some of the weirder videos people submitted to the iCarly website.

Seriously, she couldn't believe some of the stuff people wanted to put online. Sure, it didn't beat out running megafauna off a cliff, but then, few things did.

When Carly messaged to v-chat, well, that was just frosting on Sam's cupcake-y day.

Cut for v-chat home )

After that, things mostly devolved into bouncing around squealing. Over v-chat. With a giant rib bone.

[ooc: door is closed, post is open, and squeals of joy are likely audible up and down the hall. HM's agent gently modded with permission.]
hurtingzeebo: (I'm sad at the ceiling)
"Sam, come on, hurry up. We go on the air, soon!" fussed Carly from the screen of Sam's laptop.

"I know, I know, just gimme a sec, it's gotta be here somewhere!" Sam continued to fuss with Freddie's iCarly equipment, in search of the gremlin bite video. This was the perfect opportunity to get rid of it, without Freddie around to stop her --

"Where's Freddie?" asked Carly. "Shouldn't he be here by now?"

"Yeah, he got eaten by a locker or something."

Carly blinked. "I can never tell if you're kidding any more."

"Neither can I." Sam tapped a few more keys. Then Freddie's rig whited out. "Oh chiz. Oh chiz oh chiz oh chiz oh chiz -- Carly? Carly, you still there?"

She wasn't. Sam had somehow broken the video feed connection. And without Freddie around, she had no idea how to fix it. She shook her fist at the sky. "Benson!"

Carly would just have to do iCarly on her own, tonight.

[ooc: Establishy. This WOULD have been the iCarly broadcast, but, uh . . . I fell asleep. Next week!]
hurtingzeebo: (I'm stealthy)
Sam had handwavily spent most of the day on Sunday laying out snares in the woods in hopes of snagging a gremlin. Sure, their episode of "iCarly" had been rather well watched, and sure, the fan wars over whether it was a piece of crap or completely genius were really entertaining, but there was a principle to be upheld, here. No one stole Freddie's stuff but Sam.

Besides, she didn't think much of the blonde wigged gremlin's imitation of her.

Now she was back, checking on her traps. She let the chipmunk that had managed to get its foot caught in one of the smaller ones go -- after attempting to have an argument with it -- then finally found one with a gremlin in it.

"You think you're so smart," she told it. "Stealing equipment, randomly dancing. Who's the smart one, now?"

The gremlin lunged at her, biting her on the wrist. She snarled and did the same thing she did when Frothy tried to bite her.

She bit it back.

[ooc: because this idea HAD to get used in game somewhere. NFI, another post for gremlin-bit Sam will be going up momentarily.]
hurtingzeebo: (I hang with Carly)
Carly sat on her couch, a pamphlet in her hands, pouting down at it. Sam lay back next to her, her feet over the back edge, examining her toes.

"How much do you wanna bet I can play Violin Hero with my feet?" Sam asked.

cut for dialog and an eensy bit of spontaneous sculpture combustion )

[ooc: NFB what with not in Fandom yet. For the canon-mate.]

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Sam Puckett

April 2015

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