Room 402, Friday night

"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!]