You're having
breakfast in class?
- Uh-huh.
- You can't just have breakfast
in the middle of...
is that turkey bacon?
- Carly?
- Freddie?
- Sam?
- I'm eating.
All right, class,
take your seats.
Why do I smell bacon?
- It's turkey bacon.
- Put it away!
- Sorry.
- Okay.
There, it's put away.
Into my backpack.
Now, today we have
a very special treat.
- Spelling bee?
- Quiet, Gibby!
Since you young people today
know nothing about fine arts,
prepare to be stimulated
by a true performer.
- Ryan Seacrest?
- Gibby!
Now, some of you may know,
my ancestors hail
from Scotland,
the home of plaid.
And so, please welcome,
Scottish highland dancer,
Benjamin Yip.
Um, Ms. Briggs?
What does Scottish highland
dancing have to do with...
Boo!
Stop that!
Not you!
How dare you children
boo a dancing Scotsman?
- Who started the boos?
- Gibby.
No, I didn't. It was Sam.
I will not be a victim.
Sam, you have detention.
I'm used to it.
Mr. Yip, you may dance again.
- Children!
- Yay!
- In five, four, three, two...
Thanks for lettin' me hang
at your place this afternoon.
No way I can be around
my mom right now.
You guys fighting?
Nah, she's wearing
some gross new perfume.
Couldn't you smell it?
I just thought
your cat peed in the car again.
I wish.
Hey.
Hey, you missed
a smelly ride home
with Sam's mom.
Yeah, well,
I had to go buy a new backpack
'cause someone
dumped her breakfast in mine.
You're lucky I didn't dump it
down your pants.
- Anybody want some iced tea?
- Me.
- Tea me.
- Grab three glasses.
So what was up with that whole
Scottish dancing thing?
Yeah, who wants to see that?
At least you two don't have
to sit in detention with her.
Here you go.
Aw, now ya see that?
Carly puts a nice slice
of lemon on my glass.
How does she think of that?
- 'Cause Carly's classy.
- Oh, and I'm not classy?
Classy people don't
clean out their ears
with their cell phone antenna.
That was your
cell phone antenna.
What?
Aww!
No wonder
I keep droppin' calls.
Anyway, what right
does an English teacher have
to force kids to watch dancing?
I wouldn't mind
watching good dancing.
You know, that could be
a fun thing for "iCarly."
We have people send in
videos of themselves
doing their coolest dance.
- I'm down.
- I dig.
Let's do it.
Where'd my straw go?
Here.
And, in five, four, three, two.
- I'm Carly.
- I'm Sam.
- Bon soir.
- Hola.
- Shalom.
- Dirkenshnoff.
Dirkenshnoff?
It's foreign
for "good evening."
- In what language?
- Foreign-eeze.
I don't believe you,
but since I have no proof...
Dirkenshnoff!
Okay, now before
we get started...
We have a special
request for you...
Our "iCarly" viewers.
We wanna see videos of you guys
doing your coolest dance moves.
Or your uncoolest dance moves.
Any dance moves
will be acceptable,
like the jitterbug.
- The tango.
- The mambo.
- The Chimichanga.
- The woozy jacuzzi.
- The butternut trot.
- Any dance you like.
Just put it on video
then upload it right
here at iCarly.com.
And if your dance
is extremely awesome...
Or extremely lame...
- We might show it here...
- For the whole world to see.
- And if we do...
- You could get paid...
- Or not.
- Yeah, probably not.
- You won't.
- Nope.
- Hi.
- Why?
My stupid lock is broken.
I've dialed my combination
like ten times,
and it won't open.
Hey.
So I was just checkin'
iCarly.com during study hall.
Oh, did we get
any dance clips in?
Try over 3,000.
- No way.
- Yep.
How are we gonna watch
3,000 dance clips
before our next show?
We gotta watch like
500 every night.
Oh, my God.
What are you doing
to my locker?
This is my locker.
No, that's your locker.
Oh, yeah.
Thanks, Gibby.
Let's go, guys.
I give her a seven.
- Six.
- Seven.
Weird you'd agree with Carly.
Weird you'd say that.
How many more dance clips
do we have to watch tonight?
Uhh, so far we've watched 472.
So we have 28 more to go.
Hey, whatcha guys
"ohhh'ing about?
We're trying to find cool
dancers to show on "iCarly."
Ooh, are relatives eligible?
- Uh, sure.
- I guess.
Yes!
See, when I was
in the tenth grade,
I invented
the coolest dance ever.
I named it "the firecracker."
You guys
have heard of it, right?
- Not really.
- Never.
Oh.
So, why'd you call
it the firecracker?
'Cause I move my legs
in a fiery explosion
of flailing limbs
and floppy passion.
Wanna see it?
- Yeah.
- Sure.
Okay,
I gotta go find my helmet
and my shin guards.
Okay.
Dance clip number 473.
My name's Darby,
and this is the dance called
"the prancing nightingale".
- Zero.
- Bye, Darby.
- Next.
Where did I put my helmet?
Nope.
- Two.
- One.
- Bye, Courtney.
- Next.
Here's that biscuit
with cheese I lost.
Next.
- Whoa!
- Hello!
Hey, Carly, Sam,
love your web show.
- Here's my dance.
- I don't like him.
Are you insane?
He's totally hot.
- Oh, my God.
- That boy's got moves.
Come on, he's a total nub.
If he's a nub then
someday I wanna be
Mrs. Carly nub.
Where is my helmet?
Just give me your rating.
- How high can we go?
- Ten.
- Four billion.
- Four billion and three.
I'm gonna go get a juice pouch.
- Move! Come on, move! Move!
- Move! Move! Move!
[fast-paced electronic music
playing]
Five hundred dance videos.
I know. I'm so tired.
My brain is fried.
And you know what's nutty?
I don't even remember
waking up this morning.
Yeah, I don't either.
Weird.
Okay, does someone wanna
explain what's going on?
- This is insane.
- What's wrong with everybody?
Hey.
Hey, you guys.
We should...
We should probably go to...
Sleep.
All right, students,
take your seats.
Detention is about to begin.
I said take your seats!
All right, since you're
all in detention,
that means that each
of you is rotten
in your own special way.
Oh, yeah.
Now, for the next two hours,
I'm going to play
these bagpipes.
Why not just shove
scissors in our ears?
And just so you'll be sure
to hear them...
Uh, were those amps there
a few seconds ago?
Hello, Ridgeway! I am Briggs!
Aw, man, this is torture!
Hey, when did she
change clothes?
When did you guys
change clothes?
When did I change clothes?
Okay, you people are
out of your minds.
Okay, why am I dancing?
This shouldn't be happening!
I am not enjoying this.
When did I learn these moves?
Someone tell me
what's goin' on!
How am I doing this?
Hey, I'm not flexible!
What?
Hey!
Quit it, feet!
Why am I pointing?
What's with the bagpipes?
Who choreographed this?
Someone help me!
Okay, why are we marching?
Let's... okay, whoa.
What? Oh, no!
Not a cartwheel!
Aah! Oh, no, the splits!
Whoa...
what are you doing with me?
Let go! Let go of me!
Am I too late for the test?
Get out of here, Gibby,
this is my nightmare!
Oh, come on, he's a total nub.
If he's a nub,
then someday I wanna be
Mrs. Carly nub.
- That boy's got moves.
- He's a total nub.
Total nub. Total nub.
Hey, baby.
You know,
you shouldn't have called
your web show "iCarly."
You should've called
it you-purdy.
Oh, come on, now,
don't be like that.
Hey, why don't you give Zeke
a little kiss right here?
Just leave me alone.
Hey.
Zeke don't take
no for an answer.
She said leave her alone.
Yeah?
And what are you
gonna do about it?
I'm gonna dance.
Yeah, Zeke!
- Chicken!
- Gonna cry to your mommy?
Whoo!
What, what?
Check it out, wah!
Back up! Back up!
What, what, what?
Ugh!
Yeah!
Sam?
Freddie?
Where'd ya go?
Where's the furniture?
Okay, there was a huge
couch right there.
And where'd this
dress come from?
Ugh, I need some juice.
Hey.
Wait, you're not juice.
Oh, juice boy's got a friend.
Uh, I'll be back
in a few minutes.
And three more.
Okay, how many well-dressed
cute boys are in my apartment?
'Kay, why don't you guys
just make yourselves at home,
and I'll just go
to some other place
where hopefully
things make sense.
Okay, I don't know
what's going on here,
but I think I like it.
Carly! Carly!
Hey, I found it!
Carly!
I found it! Wake up!
- What?
I found my dance helmet.
Okay, you guys ready to see me
dance the firecracker?
- No.
- No chance.
But it's an explosion
of floppy passion.
We've seen all the dancing
we wanna see in one night.
Yeah. I gotta get home before
my mom has a panic attack.
I can spend
the night here, right?
Sure.
- Later.
- See ya.
- Night.
- Cute helmet.
You look like a ladybug.
Looks like I found you
for nothing.
Oh, well.
Aah!
I don't know
what's goin' on here,
but I think I like it.
Pow!
What?
No!
Yeah!
Weird.