Dwight arrived exactly 45 seconds before Andy, making sure to park as far form the building as possible. He kept one eye on the Xterra as he marched into the building. Andy had presented a surprising front of compliance, but he knew better. He quickly scanned the entire vehicle before pushing the door open and getting to his desk as fast as possible. He had already checked his messages, hung up his coat and sorted his papers for the day by the time Andy got to the office (wasteful loitering).

“Bernard”

“Morning Dwight” Andy replied cheerfully, but he wasn’t fooled. The sneak was waiting, but he would mercilessly defeat him and then…

“You drive an automatic, correct?”

“Umm, I think so,” that grin made his blood boil, but he maintained his stony expression.

“Fact: A car that shifts manually gets 2 miles more per gallon of gas than a car with an automatic shift. Your vehicle is clearly inefficient, think about it”

Andy blinked (Gotcha)

He came out on top that time, too.

“Delivery for Dwight Schrute.”

Pam looked up, startled, “Um, right over there,” she pointed towards his desk.

The man strode over, carefully balancing a clip board on top of a large cardboard box, which he dropped unceremoniously beside the desk.

“You’re Dwight Schrute?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You ordered five hundred standard size bottles of Aquafina?” he read off the clipboard barely glancing at Dwight or anyone in the office.

“I did”

“Sign, please,” he said shoving the clipboard forward stiffly.

Dwight ignored him and proceeded to tear open the box. “First, I must examine the merchandise.” He tore open the bow and carefully examined the crate of water bottles; he managed to untangle one of them and took a long sip, splashing some on the carpet. He furrowed his brow in thought and paused before answering, “Acceptable. Very well, I will sign.”

The delivery man rolled his eyes and snatched the clipboard back as quick as he could and marched out as Dwight tried to lift the now-open crate.

By the time he dragged the crate into the kitchen, he had attracted the attention of almost everyone in the office who watched with mild interest as he lugged the crate towards the fridge. He opened its door and quickly pulled out the contents of the fridge and began neatly replacing it with bottles of water. Jim was the first to rise from his desk and enter the kitchen watching with surprise as Dwight stuffed water bottles in with unearthly determination.

“Dwight, what are you doing?”

“Jim, a hard working adult sweats up to four hours per day. Without adequate hydration I will be unable to perform at the standard of excellence required.”

Jim crossed the room to stand next to the fridge; in front of the discarded beverages and food Dwight had removed. “You work in a desk”

Dwight stopped and stood up as straight as he could, “Jim, I am by far the hardest working person in this office. Perhaps if you put forth a little effort you would realize the strains of this job.”

He continued placing the bottles in while more people filtered in to watch. Pam leaned on the counter next to Jim and watched bemusedly.

“But Dwight, I thought bottled water was bad for you.” She glanced sideways and smiled a little. Jim caught her eye and returned the grin.

“You’re right Pam, that whole problem with the addictive chemicals, I heard it was a scam.”

Dwight froze and examined his face closely.

“You, Jim Halpert, are by far the most gullible person I have ever met.”

“Right.”

“Oh Ryan, she was so sweet. I can’t wait to have a baby, oh my god her room was adorable.  She had the cutest pink hat and when it fell off, she started bawling and bawling, it was so amazing and then Beth told me-”

“FALSE” Dwight half-yelled, making Kelly shriek and Ryan glance over in exasperation.

“Kelly, your neighbour had this baby this weekend?”

“Of course, she would have invited me but she went into-”

“And you are certain of this?”

Kelly looked shocked “Well duh Dwight.  What do you think?”

“Your story would contradict that,” he scoffed “Fact: A baby must be approximately six to eight weeks old before its eyes can produce tears.  Are you certain your friend is not a spy?  A baby is a frequently used cover.”

“Jeez Dwight my friend is not a spy, let’s talk somewhere else Ryan.” She said as she rose huffily, dragging Ryan back to the break room. 

Dwight rolled his eyes “Women… Hey Jim, do you know Kelly’s address?  It would be best if I checked the area to be sure.”

“Alright people let’s move.  Time for a speech from your leader.  Hey Jim, I am your leader-that’s Star Wars. Okay everyone get in”

It was Monday, and Michael was giving his weekly morning motivation speech.  Everyone filed into the conference room as Michael nervously glanced at his cue cards. 

“Alright everyone, now that we’re all here, I’d like to begin by thanking you for being a part of my family and of our important business-- the business of paper. Without our contribuations to the world there would be more diseases, and less um… anyways paper is important and we sell it, so technically we make money, I mean we make paper and money is paper so we make it and sell it.  To other people.  Dwight what is it now?”

"Michael, paper is made of cotton, not paper so the cotton farmers actually are the primary manufacturers of bills.”

 "Great Dwight, now you've despired everyone, thanks.  Now I have to start all over.  You've de-spired the entire office with your, umm, argumentation. Luckily I prepared for this... did any one watch?  Okay here we go..."

Dwight came in and strode directly into Michael’s office without even hanging up his coat.

“Michael, I require your immediate attention. I have noticed that most of the products in this office are improperly tested. With your permission, I would like to examine them and file a report on the condition of all staplers printers, hole punchers, scanners, keyboards, office chairs, calculators, scissors-”

“Dwight, why would you want to do that?”

“Michael, 2500 left handed people are injured each year by products designed for right handed people. Clearly the safety standards at our office facilities are disappointingly slack.”

“Are you left handed, Dwight?”

“I have mastered the use of both hands. What if I accidentally stapled with the wrong hand and sustained an injury? What then?”

“Argh. Fine; go.”