The Smut Folder by RomanCandle
Summary: Jim teases Pam after discovering some rather embarassing fan-fiction she has written about Josh and Polly, two characters from her favorite TV show.
Categories: Jim and Pam, Present Characters: Jim/Pam
Genres: Fluff, Humor, Oneshot, Parody
Warnings: Moderate sexual content
Challenges: None
Series: Pam's Favorite TV Show
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 1320 Read: 3210 Published: April 18, 2009 Updated: April 18, 2009
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended. For realsies, ya'll.
Breakfast For Dinner! by RomanCandle
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“Hey Pam.”

“Hey. Just wanted to call and let you know that I’m finally leaving work. I should be home in about 15 minutes. I hate working late.”

“Yeah, but it beats being a receptionist, right?”

“That’s right.”

“You eaten yet? I can heat up something for you.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll just get a salad at McDonald’s or something.”

“You sure? I’ll fry you an egg if you want.”

“Ohhh, that actually sounds pretty good.”

“Great.”

“Yay! I love breakfast for dinner!”

“Well who doesn’t love breakfast for dinner?”

“So what are you doing right now?”

“Nothing, just checking email.”

“I thought your laptop was on the fritz.”

“It is, I’m using yours.”

“Oh okay.”

“I have a slight problem, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I downloaded an attachment and now I can’t find it.”

“Did you check Documents?”

“Not yet, I’m in Downloads right now.”

“Try Documents.”

“Okay…alright, here it is.”

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

“It was, actually. I think I need to lie down.”

“Welcome to the 21st century, arrtard.”

“Wait a second…what’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“It’s a folder called ‘jolly fic’. What does that mean?”

“Oh, those are just my silly stories.”

“For that show you like?”

“Yes, that show. Starring Josh and Polly, aka JOLLY. Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing. But you really do put a lot of effort into these. There’s like fifty stories in here.”

“Well a lot of them are different chapters in the same story, not unique stories.”

“Right.”

“So there aren’t fifty stories. More like…thirty.”

“That’s a relief, because fifty stories? That would have been weird. Nothing weird about thirty stories, though.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk! Remind me again: how many spreadsheets have you made for your stupid fantasy football team?”

“That was worth the effort! I won the league this year, if you recall.”

“Of course I recall, you mention it every ten minutes.”

“I don’t mention it THAT often…”

“And by the way, your 'league' consisted of Kevin, Andy, and Creed. I can’t imagine the competition was too stiff.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“You’re right, Jim. I’m jealous of your dorky fantasy football league. You know me so well…Jim? Still there? Am I losing reception?”

“I’m still here.”

“Okay. You went quiet for a minute, thought my phone dropped the call.”

“What is this folder?”

“Which folder, the one you’re in now?”

“Yeah…but it has a sub-folder here. It’s just called ‘smut’.”

“Oh god.”

“I’m intrigued. I think I’ll just go ahead and double-click it…”

“Oh god, don’t click there.”

“Too late.”

“Jim, please. Not funny, Jim. This is the sound of me not laughing.”

“Strange…it just looks like more stories.”

“You know what? That’s all they are. And they’re really boring so there’s no need to read them.”

“They do have eye-catching titles, though…this one is called The Steam Room. Interesting…”

“Don’t open that file. I think that there might be a really bad computer virus in there or something.”

“Well you’re really good about keeping your anti-virus software up to date, so I doubt that. But don’t worry, Pam. I’m not going to open that file.”

“Good…good. Thank you.”

“I am, however, going to open the file entitled Whipped Cream and Handcuffs. Wonder what that story could be about?”

“No! NOT THAT ONE! You know what? Go ahead and read The Steam Room, I don’t care. Just not Whipped Cream and Handcuffs...anything but that!”

“Too late. Again.”

“Fine, fine. I still hate you though…well?”

“Well what?”

“Well what do you think?”

“I think…that I am engaged to a sexual deviant.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Sometimes the truth hurts, Pam.”

“I am going to hit you on the head with a frying pan when I get home.”

“I have to say, as an amateur literary critic, this story is very straightforward. The two characters don’t waste much time getting down to business.”

“Okay, first of all…you are not an amateur literary critic…”

“Is there any plot in this story? Any effort to connect this very graphic description of carnal bliss into a larger theme or milieu or some kind?”

“I am driving 137 miles an hour right now. That is how much I want to get home and hurt you with frying pans.”

“I don’t know why you’re so angry, Pam. You’re a very gifted writer, especially when it comes to adjectives.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“Not at all. I also want to commend you on your attention to detail; you don‘t leave ANYTHING to the imagination.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh really? You used eight paragraphs to describe Josh’s upper body.”

“Okay, I realize that’s a lot of paragraphs, but they aren’t very long, so…”

“And that’s just his upper body. His lower body seems to be even more spectacular.”

“I think you should stop reading now.”

“I do have one question, though: can that part of a man’s body really be ‘glistening’? That just sounds unhealthy…”

“In my defense, I think I wrote this story after a few glasses of wine.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about Josh’s health too much. From the way you describe him, he appears to be in optimal physical condition. And extremely well-endowed, it would seem…”

“I hate you so much.”

“I have to ask: was it really necessary to mention the exact length of his manhood within a quarter of an inch? That just seems overly specific to me.”

“Aargh! It’s a fantasy!”

“Well, I can’t help but compare myself to this Josh character. And I now feel inferior and emasculated.”

“You do not. You feel smug and mischievous and very pleased with yourself.”

“Not at all. You can’t tell right now, but my eyes are welling up. I bet you feel super guilty now, huh?”

“I know why you’re doing this.”

“Because I am an amateur literary critic?”

“No, Jim, you are not an amateur literary critic. You’re doing this as payback for that time I found your porn stash and made fun of you.”

“It wasn’t a ‘stash’, it was one DVD! I bet you don‘t even remember the name of the movie.”

Busty Blonde Nurses 2.”

“Okay…that’s right, actually…”

“And don’t try to play the victim, Jim. Instead of hiding it, you tried to get me to watch it with you!”

“Yes, I did. And you could have just said ‘no thank you’, but instead you said something very sarcastic and mean-spirited. Do you remember?”

“I don’t remember exactly…”

“You said, and I am quoting you verbatim here, you said ‘I haven’t seen Busty Blonde Nurses 1, so I don’t think I’ll be able to follow the plot.’ That was just petty, in my opinion…”

“Ha! I DO remember now! I can be pretty funny when I set my mind to it.”

“Yes you can be. Even if you are a sexual deviant.”

“Well…deviancy loves company, mister.”

“That must be why we get along so well.”

“Must be.”

“Anyway, I better get started on that egg of yours. Do you want some famous Halpert Buttered Toast to go with it?”

“Of course. Use the low-fat butter, though. I had a big lunch and I don‘t feel like jogging 100 miles tomorrow to run it all off.”

“Alrighty.”

“Yay for breakfast for dinner!”

“Hey, one more thing. Have you passed the store yet?”

“I’m just pulling up beside it, why?”

“Will you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Pick up some whipped cream.”


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End Notes:
As far as I know, there is no movie called Busty Blonde Nurses 2.
This story archived at http://mtt.just-once.net/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=4464