We enter the scene as Karen is smothering Jim with her multiple tentacles of boringness. The whole office is aghast at what is going on. "Jim was so interesting last year, so sad to see this happen to him," cried Kelly.

"Don't worry," said Creed, mung beanly. "I turned on the Don't Call Me Pammy signal on the roof."

"The DCMP signal? Wow!" said Angela, kind of cutely but kind of uptightly as well, with a glaze of shortness.

"Hands off my Jim." Pam appeared in the doorway, with a black cape and a raised saber.

Kevin stared and exclaimed accountantly, "It's DCMP!"

"Never!" spat Karen, much like a three ring binder would, raising a big, sharp number two pencil to fend off Pam.

"My old self might have run from your number two pencil," said Pam, with the je ne sais quois of freshly mowed snow. "And cried some, to be honest. But now I am DCMP and fearless."

"Bah, then we will fight to the death." Karen exclaimed with all the personality she could muster, for a character that hasn't been fleshed out by the writers.

Pam and Karen circled each other, their number two pencil and saber clashing now and then as they sized each other up. Jim took the time to make his hair more perfect, a strand had fallen out of place.

Karen slashed at Pam, in a corporate way. Pam dodged it with the fawn-like gentle style she has. Then DCMP lunged forward and with the dewy perfection of a sunrise over a garden, knocked the number two pencil from Karen's grasp and pinned her to the floor.

"Just let me know when it's my turn to do something," Jim said, polishing up his fingernails as he does every hour to maintain his manicure. "I haven't been used much this season and would appreciate another line or two."

"Hold on a second," said Karen, in a businesslike way. She then said something sincere to a supporting character. "I have to do that every fifteen minutes, they say it's part of my charm."

"I understand," said Pam, cutely, like a puppy but with added cuteness. "But now you must go, leave and begone, never to come back."

"Not the chocolate river! Anything but that!" Karen cried like a manila folder but it was to no avail. DCMP was in full force and pushed her out the door at adorable saber point.

Pam ran over to Jim and hugged him in victory. Jim pointed at the red sash and bow around him. "I put a bow on me to emphasize that I'm the prize for the winner," he said big eared but covered up by flippy hairly.

Everyone in the office applauded and Pam drew a big P with her saber on the front of her receptionist desk, Zorro style.

Jim was missing and Pam was concerned. She didn’t cry, she already had once today and she was trying to go on a cry diet, but she wanted to. As soon as the day’s work was over Pam went straight to her car trunk and pulled out her DCMP costume, which consisted of a cape, a saber and a handkerchief in case she became overwhelmed. She was going to find her Jim and bring him back to the office where he belonged so she could finish reading his neck. If there was one thing Pam hated it was getting to the last part of a neck only to have it disappear.

As suspected, she found Jim being held captive in the Fortress of Boritude, Karen’s secret lair in the suburbs of Stamford, Connecticut. At first Pam wasn’t sure how to get inside but then she whipped out her tried and true wide, happy smile and just walked in through the front gates. Karen’s henchmen were so blinded by the sheer wonderfulness of it that they couldn’t make out who it was, only that a bright light had passed by them and that they felt at one with the world.

Pam heard Jim’s screams for help and followed them to a large room with a skylight where he was being held, bound head to toe and upside down, dangling over a pit full of starving a capella singers who clawed upward trying to reach him.

Karen was on the side of the pit, operating a winch which she used to lower Jim down another few feet every time he defied her. It was unmistakable that it was Karen even at a distance because she had Jim’s desk super-glued to her rear end. Pam was secretly impressed, she had no idea Karen’s bottom was so strong as to be able to hold the desk in mid-air like that.

“Unhand him!” Pam leaped out from the shadows, her saber raised.

“What? DCMP?! Where did you come from? How did you get in here? Why didn’t my guards stop you?” Karen was more surprised than if Jim had kissed her in public.

Pam raised her eyebrows. The room shook a little as tectonic plates shifted due to the adorableness. “That’s the most lines you’ve had in a row all season. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” said Karen, like a Volvo.

“Now you’re back to monosyllabic! Ha!” Pam twirled her saber, much like a cheerleader would if any cheerleaders were as cute as Pam.

“Arghh!” Karen let go of the winch to clench her fists in frustration. Jim slid down another foot, closer to the starving a capella singers who slavered and growled as they harmonized the lyrics of “Kiss the Girl."

Turning her attention back to Jim, Karen screamed at him like a quarterly report. “Say it finally, and I’ll let you go. Say that you will work harder on selling paper so we can have a vacation!”

Jim was scared and worse yet his wig was starting to slip off which concerned him more than the singers in the pit below. “But I want to prank Dwight. And tease Andy. And grow my hair longer again. Who knew my ears were this big?”

Karen turned the winch and lowered him some more. "Make money so we can take a trip!”

Jim’s mind raced, he had to find a way out, if only so he could live to give Pam the cold shoulder another day. “I’m a drunk driver,” he blurted out, sounding much like a small town paper salesman who inexplicably has two of People magazine's most beautiful women in love with him.

Karen started grinning and tearing up with joy. She quickly turned the winch in the other direction, lifting Jim back up to safety. “He’s just so cute, I have to bundle him into the back of my car.” She unhooked Jim and started dragging him towards the front gates. “Don’t come near me,” she snarled at Pam, like a coffee break. “Or that desk you want so badly gets it.”

DCMP laughed, like world peace. “It’s no use, Karen, that desk attached to you is not his real desk. It’s his Desk of Estrangement. His Desk of Love is still back at the office.” DCMP then flashed a wide, happy smile but Karen was immune, protected by her Cool Bangs. “The bangs can’t save you,” said Pam, like a Brownie selling cookies. “The powers that be have decided the next paragraph will be angst-free.”

Karen screamed in frustration as Pam grabbed Jim and raced him out the front gates, smiling at anyone who got in their way. Karen followed but as she reached the parking lot she saw the DCMP-mobile driving away. It stopped at a school crossing and twice swerved to avoid running over bunnies but she knew there was no chance of catching up.

Karen shook her head. “That was lame, using lack of angst like that," she said, filing cabinetly.

On the grass nearby sat Kevin, playing with dingos. "That wasn’t lame, that was strategy, mate," he replied, bit partly.

"Oh, shut up."

 

 

 

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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.