There was so much pain. He hadn't known pain like this since his wife, Karen, had locked him in the basement for two weeks with a rabid sewer rat and a rusty can opener (he never did forget a monthly anniversary again). But, this was worse.

"Pam is dead." Dwight said coldly. "She took an overdose of the saddest pills you can think of, and she left this note." He held up a large sheet of Dunder Mifflin Resume bond. Jim forced himself to read it.

Dear People Who Don't Love Me:

I am so, so sad. Jim loves Karen and she is perfect. I am just a sad, sad receptionist. Nobody loves me. Even Roy hates me since he found out I love Jim. But, Jim does not love me. Also, Gil said my art sucked. So I'm sad. I'll just die, now..............

The downward slash of the red crayon indicated she had done just that.

"Why?" asked Jim, shaking his fist at the ceiling. "Why would she be so sad? Just yesterday, I brightened her day with a great story about my new costume for roleplay with Karen! I thought she'd find that crotchless Batman suit funny! Why did that laughter not feed her will to live?"

So, then, Jim sadly walked to the elevator. The doors opened, but he was too, too sad to notice that there was no elevator car there. He plunged to his death.


When he got to Heaven, Pam was there waiting for him. Unfortunately, she was too shy and passive to even say "Hello." So Eternity of Misery it was. Excellent.