The fairgrounds were as hot as they could be in the height of August. Although the doors had only opened an hour ago,  clouds of dust were already being kicked up by out-of-control, screaming children. Pam felt a headache coming on even though the tinny carnival music hadn’t started blaring yet from all the speakers. In a few hours, near dusk, the neon lights would start to glow, Scranton teens would arrive, and Pam would have to use all her will power to drag Roy home. They had to work tomorrow… whether he liked it or not. Sometimes, just sometimes, Pam felt more like Roy’s mommy than his fiancée.

Roy was rubbing Pam’s arm up and down just like he always did when he wanted her to do something he knew she didn’t want to do, “Come on, babe! Don’t be such a wuss!”

Pam pulled her arm away, “I’m not going. You can’t make me. I did it last year and I got sick. People…”

“Ah, babe, that’s cause you ate a chili dog before you went. All you've had is a salad! You’ll be fine,” Roy was using his ‘you’re being stupid’ voice. She hated that voice.

Pam crossed her arms defensively, “So the giant cotton candy we just ate doesn’t count? Or the diet coke I drank on the ride over? Roy, I’m not going on the Zipper and that’s final. Let’s go on some other ride, okay?”

“Why the hell did we come early? You know the only reason to come early is to avoid the lines!”  Roy had that pissed look in his eyes. She was glad he hadn’t had any beer yet.

Pam put her hand on his arm to soothe him before he made a scene, “Let’s go on the Ferris Wheel so we can see everything in the…”

He yanked his arm away, “Screw that! The Ferris Wheel? Call me when they have g-forces sucking you almost out of your skin!”

“Hey…..” at the sound of a new voice, Roy and Pam immediately stopped arguing. Jim was standing several feet away looking very awkward and very alone. He’d obviously witnessed some, if not all, of their argument.

Flustered, Pam instinctively moved between Jim and Roy. “Oh, hey Jim. What are you…”

“Halpert. Thank god you’re here. Tell Pam she’s being stupid.” Roy ordered as if he expected Jim to instantly support him in this argument.

Jim looked from Pam to Roy and back to Pam. “Uh….”

Pam ignored Roy’s last statement, “I thought you said you weren’t coming.”

Still looking faintly uncertain, Jim smiled at Pam. “Oh yeah, that. Well, when I found out that Dwight was entering a ‘vegetable of prodigious size’, well, I couldn’t stay away.”

Pam laughed, “No! Why didn’t he tell me? When did you find out? Why didn’t you tell…”

“Who cares?” Roy barked, “Let’s get on some of the good rides before these little squirts start puking all over the place.” Roy pointed at roving gangs of young boys who were reading the height requirements on the ‘coolest’ rides.

“Hey,” Jim acted as if he’d had a startling idea, “How about Pam and I go check out Dwight’s entry while you ride the Zipper?”

Pam’s eyes lit up and she turned hopefully to Roy. He looked less than pleased. “No way, she doesn’t want to see some stupid giant pumpkins. Anyway, who wants to go on a ride alone?”

Pam immediately countered, “Oh, and it's fun going on rides I don’t want to go on?”

“Fine! Call me when you want to get a life!” With a disparaging look, Roy stormed off to the line of boys waiting for The Zipper.

Uncertainly, Pam watched as he walked away. “Maybe I should…” her voice trailed off.

“Oh yeah… sure. No problem. Actually, I wanted to go check out some of those rides myself. I hear they've got some new burlap bags for the giant slide.” Jim looked across the midway towards the kiddie section.

Pam giggled, “I’m so glad Roy didn’t hear that!”

Jim started strolling towards the 4-H buildings when he saw he had Pam’s attention, “Hey, that slide has some major g-forces. Gravity, you know, Pam. Gravity. It’s a…”

Pam interrupted him to point at a booth next to the Orbitron, “Hey, win me a penguin,”

“A penguin? Are you kidding? Why would you…” he paused. The booth was a basketball game. “These games are all rigged.”

“Yeah, yeah. Win me a penguin or...,” Pam tried to think of the most threatening thing possible. “Or I’ll tell everyone your favorite ride is the Giant Slide!” She was eyeing a gigantic bright orange penguin made out of some nasty man-made fabric. “What do you think they make Carnival stuffed animals out of?”

“Recycled nuclear waste,” Jim conjectured. “Can’t play anyway. There’s no carnies around.”

“Carnies?” Pam looked at him appraisingly.

Jim lifted an eyebrow, “Carnival workers, carny, plural... carnies. What?”

“Nothing. I just… I just never imagined you saying the word carnies,” Pam continued to stare at him until he was completely disconcerted.

“So carny workers don’t show up much at Dunder-Mifflin,” he shrugged as way of an excuse. “Hey! You know what word I can’t imagine you saying?”

“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?” Pam guessed just as Jim said, “G-Forces.”

Before either could say anything, an unwashed, unkempt man walked up. “You want to play this game?”

Pam nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, yes he does!”

Jim sighed in mock surrender. “Yeah, how much?”

The carny pointed at one of twenty signs surrounding the booth. “Three balls, one dollar. Win your girly a stuffed animal.”

Pam clapped her hands. “Win your girly a stuffed animal, Jim!” She bounced slightly to egg him on.

“These games are all rigged,” he mumbled.

The carny grabbed the dollar out of Jim’s hand before saying in an aggrieved tone, “None of the games here are rigged, man. Everything’s on the up and up. These are games of skill and luck.”

“Skill and luck, Jim!” Pam nodded ferociously, “Skill and luck!”

The carny smiled. “The little lady’s right. Give your fella a kiss for luck, miss. Can’t do anything about the skill.”

“He’s so repulsive!” Pam said merrily as she held the day-glo orange penguin out in front of her.

Jim rolled his eyes, “Great.”

“I’m going to name him Buster!” She looked fondly at Jim as they entered the exhibition building.

It was easy enough to find Dwight’s giant vegetable due to the fact that Dwight was standing in front of it, guarding it from any and all possible giant vegetable thieves.

“Dwight,” Jim said simply.

Dwight replied in the same tone, “Jim.”

Pam happily broke into this riveting conversation, “Jim says you’ve entered a vegetable for the fair. Is it a giant beet?”

Dwight looked at her dismissively. “Hardly, Pam. The largest beet on record was grown by John Evans in 1999. It was 42.75 pounds.”

“That’s a lot of beet,” Jim noted.

“Well, the man specializes in growing giant vegetables.” Dwight began to reel off John Evans’ record vegetables, “Cauliflower, broccoli, rutabaga, zucchini, carrot…”

 “Wow,” Pam tried to sound impressed. “How does he do it?”

Dwight’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the empty expo building. He leaned forward so that only Pam and Jim could hear him. “I think he uses the Dark Arts… or really good manure.”

Pam and Jim nodded in unison.

“Can’t beat that,” Jim admitted.

“I’ve written to him. He was not forthcoming with his secrets.” Dwight searched the room once more for any possible eavesdroppers before admitting, “I even offered to pay him.”

Pam looked at Jim in amusement before asking Dwight, “You offered to pay him to teach you the Dark Arts?”

Dwight looked startled at the possibility, “I offered to pay him for his manure, of course. He sent me something in the mail but it didn’t smell like any manure I’ve ever seen.”

“So you didn’t use it?” Jim asked.

“Jim. I just won the gold rosette for this year’s Largest Turnip. Thirty seven pounds. Of course, I used it,” Dwight acted as if he was talking to an infant.

Pam considered the mammoth turnip. “It looks kind of like a beet,” she finally said.

This was enough for Jim, “Are you sure it isn’t a beet, Dwight?”

Dwight looked horrified, “Of course it’s not a beet. Look at the sign. It’s a turnip. It has a white root. Come on, you’ve seen turnips before.”

Pam turned to Jim for confirmation, “I thought turnips came in bunches.”

Jim nodded.

Dwight stared at them in disbelief. “You’re thinking of radishes. This is obviously a turnip.” In exasperation, Dwight pointed at the turnip, “Look at it! A beet looks nothing like this. A beet’s leaf has a reddish stalk!”

Jim and Pam looked the turnip over. “I don’t see a stalk,” Jim pointed out.

“Of course not!” Dwight said angrily, “I removed the stalk before oiling the beet for presentation.”

“You said beet,” Pam pointed out.

Dwight’s eyes popped open, stunned. “I did not! I said turnip.”

“You said beet, Dwight, I heard you,” Jim looked with concern at Dwight’s turnip. “Maybe you should change the sign to ‘Possibly a turnip, but more likely, a beet’.”

Dwight looked at the card doubtfully.

Pam smiled at Jim and hugged her day-glo orange penguin.

As Pam was driving Roy home, she glanced happily at the stuffed animal in the passenger seat. Jim had put a seat belt over it in case of an accident. “You know, Pam, 10 out of ever 12 car accidents result in a penguin’s death. That’s why all the orange ones are going extinct. Same thing happened with the dinosaurs.”

Roy’s snores from the backseat disrupted her reverie. She sighed. Roy was just a little boy at heart. Six rides on the zipper, five rides on both the orbiter and the kamikaze, four beers, three sausages, two reverse bungee jumps, and a tractor pull… that’s all he needed to be happy. It was sweet really.

Oscar scuttled into Dunder-Mifflin, fifteen minutes late, just as Michael came barreling out of his office. “Okay, everybody!” Michael waved for everyone’s attention. Oscar froze, fear etched on his face. He was trying to remember if it was Gay Pride Day or worse, his own birthday, when Michael continued. “Gather round! I’ve got important news!”

Everyone turned to stare at Oscar, waiting expectantly. Oscar’s mind raced over names and dates. It was April 27th. It meant nothing to him. Nothing.

“What are you all looking…?” Michael turned to look at Oscar. “Get… get out of here. Go to your desk!”  As Oscar started moving, Michael returned to his prepared spiel, “Okay! Nobody move! I have HUGE news. This is like headline news. This is news that will change your life!”

Jim yawned, “What is it, Michael?”

Dwight spoke at the same time, “Oh man! Are you going to fire someone? Because I have a list of transgressors…”

“Dwight,” Michael said in exasperation. “How many times do I have to tell you… No one is going to get fired. No one is EVER getting fired!”

Dwight’s mouth dropped open at this open hostility on Michael’s part, “But two weeks ago, you said you wished you could fire…”

“Shuuuuuuuut….” Michael didn’t finish because Dwight’s mouth had snapped shut. “Good. Okay.”

“Michael, what is this all about?”  Stanley was holding his phone in one hand while his finger hovered over the hold button, “I have a client on hold….”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Michael pointed excitedly at Stanley, “Thank you Stanley for your enthusiasm!” Stanley told his caller that he would call him back.

“Michael, there is no money left in petty cash for another party,” Angela’s mouth was a thin line of disapproval. She hated it when petty cash was empty.

“This is no party, Angela! Spoil sport. This is The Fair! Everyone, we’re going to The Fair!” Michael looked around to see who was jumping up and down at his news. Not even Dwight had realized the enormity of The Fair. In fact, confused faces could be seen on all sides.

Jim was the first to burst the bubble, “Michael, isn’t the Fair in August?”

“This is April, Michael,” Pam explained in case he’d forgotten what month it was.

“I know that, Paaaam,” Michael began to bob and weave in a ghetto dance that he’d developed with Darryl. “We’re not going to the County Fair, we’re going to the Endless Maple Fair in Troy!”

“Troy,” Stanley said disbelievingly. “Troy is over two hours away, Michael,”

Michael laughed gleefully, “I know! I’m providing the vehicular transport AND the entertainment!”

“Oh god,” Karen muttered.

“Well, at least that’s over,” Oscar whispered to Angela.

“We’ve still got the ride back,” she shielded her mouth with her hand and faked a slight cough.

Oscar replied in his most hushed voice, “See if you can find some vending machines. Bottled water.”

Angela’s lips contorted as she recalled the only drink available in Chez Winnabago “Blue Blast…” she hissed

Oscar tried to quell the nausea, “Never again will I accept a ride from Michael in his mother’s Winnebago.”

“Ever,” Angela agreed.

Michael read off the Fair Program’s daily events to his employees as they trudged through the dirt parking lot. “Okay, first off…. Welcome to Troy Fairgrounds! Second, we’ll meet at 2 o’clock for the Pancake Eating Contest and...”

Dwight’s “Yeeees!” and Kevin’s “Allll right!” elicited a gratified smile from Michael. He knew this was going to be the best Morale Event ever.

Ryan and Kelly were still hiding behind the Winnebago when their co-workers entered the turnstiles.

“Can we go now?” Kelly begged. He ignored her, as usual. She pouted,  “Ryan Howard, I’m hot and dirty and I’ve got dirt clods in my shoes!” She pulled off her Stella McCartney knock-off pumps, “I wish Michael had told us yesterday, I sooo could have worn this really cute denim…”

As soon as she had her shoes back on, Ryan pushed her towards the parking lot exit, “I saw a Museum down the road. Let’s go check it out.”

“What? Why? I want to go on the rides!” Kelly pointed excitedly towards a ride that had just started moving in the distance, “Look, there’s a Ferris Wheel! And cotton candy!” She used her most pouty voice, “Museums are sooo boring!”

Ryan sighed as he saw Michael’s head disappear in the crowd, “I know.”

“Hey, you want me to win you a giant stuffed Maple Bear? I’m pretty good at hoops...” Jim pointed towards the basketball toss.

Karen laughed, “What do you think I am? Sixteen?”

“Uh… no. I was just… You know, something you could put on your desk at work,” Jim bit his lip nervously.

“Oh, right, Halpert. Real professional. Hey, look!” Karen pointed down an opening between the stalls, “The Wave Swinger! I love that ride! Let’s go!” She pulled him towards the Bavarian-themed ride. Dozens of empty swings swayed as the ride came to a standstill. Only a handful of young boys were waiting in line.

“Doesn’t look real safe…” Jim said tentatively.

Karen nodded, “I heard that two girls swung off to their deaths in Texas last year!”

Jim handed the ride operator two tickets, “Have you ever noticed that it’s always two girls? It’s never like a burly biker dude.”

“Well, I think they’re pretty,” Phyllis pointed at another teapot she liked.

“Puh-lease,” Angela sniffed, “Our county fair has much better china painting. None of these would even get a green ribbon in Scranton.”

“I think it’s pretty, too, Phyllis.” Pam smiled encouragingly at Phyllis. She didn’t think she’d mention in front of Angela that Phyllis had entered a similar painted teapot at last year’s fair. Angela didn’t need to know that Phyllis didn't get a green ribbon let alone the red ribbon this one had.

Phyllis smiled gratefully, “It must be nice to be an artist, Pam. When you say something is pretty, everyone knows you must be right.”

“I know Michael’s up to something,” Dwight told Andy by the swine exhibit.

Andy nodded as he tried to keep from touching the mucky fencepost behind him. It was a tough call. Pig muck or Dwight breath.

Dwight listed the suspicious behaviors. “A) He didn’t tell me anything about a country fair even though I’m his right hand man.”

“Is that pig looking at us…” A note of urgency underlined Andy’s voice as he sidled sideways away from the pig muck. Dwight breath had won out over eyeballing pigs.

Dwight barely paused to look at the offending sow, “No. It’s not. It’s just in heat. They do that all the time. Where was I?” Dwight looked at Andy for help but Andy was now completely engrossed in watching the pig in heat. “2) Stanley drove Michael’s Winnebago even though I called it! 3) Michael then ordered me to sit in the back of the Winnebago. Why? 3-Subset) Did he want to put me as far as possible from Stanley?  And finally....”

Andy noticed that the pig, hog, swine, whatever you wanted to call it, was the same exact shade of pink as his shirt. He hoped that no one else noticed. He’d gotten enough ‘pig jokes’ from girls when he was in high school.

Dwight was used to disinterested audiences, “4) Why did Michael order me and you to come check out the goats and rabbits?  You’re not even a farmer!  Do you own a farm? I don’t thinks so! And why specifically did Michael want us to check out goats and rabbits?”

Andy couldn’t help adding, “And cats…”

“There are no regulations for the exhibition of cats at legalized County Fairs. Even a sad excuse for a fair like this wouldn’t allow…” Dwight’s voice trailed off as he thought about what he had just said. “ I don’t think this even qualifies as a fair. There are no goats. No rabbits. There aren't even any 4-H buildings. I see absolutely no giant vegetables.” Dwight looked around in wild surmise, “In fact! There’s nothing that you would find at a real fair!”

Andy didn’t care. He’d never been to a fair before. This one had dirt and scary pigs. Seemed like a freaking County Fair to him. He just wanted that Pig to stop ogling him. “Look Dwight, man, they’ve got rides and beer, what else do you need? And hey, who cares anyway, Dude? We’ve got a beer garden twenty yards away,” Andy made a beeline towards the Kiwanis booth. “Forget the chipmunks and pigs!”

Dwight wouldn’t be deterred, “But don’t you think Michael’s acting strange?”

Andy knew a losing proposition when he heard one, “Nope. I think he’s acting as normal as the Michael normally acts. Unless you mean the Mime act he did on the road?”

“No, he does that whenever we travel,” Dwight gave up. Andy was obviously a broken reed. Dwight looked towards the beer garden with a faraway look in his eye, “Did I ever tell you about the time I took Ryan on his first sales call?”

“Ooooh, so close. Three more balls for just a dollar!” The carnival worker held out three rubber balls to tempt Pam.

Pam considered the targets thoughtfully, “My friend says all these games are a rip-off.”

“He’s totally right.”

Pam looked over to see Jim leaning against the next Midway stall, a Throw Three Darts at Balloons Game that she’d already tried and failed. She’d decided the darts were rubber-tipped and the balloons were rocks covered in latex.

“Hey, where’s Karen?” Pam tried to act cool.

Jim shrugged, “She’s on the Matterhorn.”

Pam smiled, “How’d you get out of that?”

“The ole bathroom ruse,” he looked down the midway to make sure the Matterhorn was still going.

“Nice,” Pam shuffled her feet. Shyly, she asked, “Want to win me a…”

“No.”

Taken aback by his brisk refusal, Pam stammered, “Oh yeah. No. I was just kidding.”

“Yeah. I know,” Jim put his hands in his pockets. “Karen would be upset. Because I haven’t won her anything yet.”

“Oh no, totally. No, you should totally get her something. They’ve got some really classy mirrors over at the Throw a Penny on a Really Slick Plate While We Laugh At You booth.”

Jim laughed, “Yeah, that’s called the Just Give Us Your Money and Walk Away Game.”

“But the mirrors, Jim, the mirrors! There’s a ZZ Top and a Playboy Bunny and a Harley Davidson with Wings! I could redo my entire apartment!” Pam waved her hands in the air as if describing her whole new pad.

“Definitely classy. Very Beesly. Especially the Harley,” Jim looked down the Midway and saw that the Matterhorn was stopping. “Hey, gotta go. Karen’s waiting.”

“Yeah, sure.” She waved as he walked off.

Once Jim was out of earshot, the carny leaned across the counter towards Pam and whispered, “If you want, I’ll get you those mirrors.”

“Over there is where I ate eight hot dogs and got sick on my Mom,” Michael pointed to a table next to a line of port-a-johns.

Toby didn’t glance over, “Look, Michael. I know it’s my birthday, but seriously, you don’t have to do this.”

Michael stopped in his tracks, “Yeah, well… It’s your birthday and you’ve got no family.”

Toby’s expression hardly changed, “Actually, I’m having dinner tonight with my parents and my daughter’s coming over tomorrow for…”

“Always the martyr, Mr. Flenderson!” Michael said knowingly. Toby looked confused. “No, Toby. I meant family. Real family.” Michael continued, “Like I bet you didn’t get any birthday cards from your co-workers. Am I right?”

“Actually,” Toby smiled slightly, “I got a nice card from Pam and…”

“Pam!” Michael laughed that off, “Pam gets everyone a card for their birthday. She’s required to by law. She’s a secretary. That’s their job. Was it funny? The one she got me had a fat lady on a …”

“No, it wasn’t funny,” Toby interrupted. “It had a very nice message…”

“Ha!” Michael looked triumphantly around him. “She didn’t get you a funny birthday card? Well, there you go! She hates your guts!”

Toby was obviously uncomfortable, “I really think that was inappropriate under the…”

“Stuff the p. c. crap, Tobster. It’s your birthday.” Michael directed their footsteps towards a fenced-in beer garden, “Let loose! Let par-tay! Let’s…” Michael quickly steered them away. He’d spotted Dwight and Andy inside and he had no desire for anyone to see him with Toby… even if it was Toby’s birthday. “Let’s go somewhere where no one will see…” He looked around desperately.  In quick succession he considered a pig exhibit, some ponies in a makeshift corral, and a padlocked Quonset hut. “Let’s ride a pony!” Michael was already pulling cash out of his wallet. “I can’t ride one cause I’m allergic, but it’s your birthday so buckle up your boots!” Michael handed a twenty to the unsavory cowboy at the entrance, “Pony ranger? Saddle my… employee up!”

 “I’m not your employee, Michael, and I don’t want to ride a pony.” Even the pony ranger could hear the resignation in Toby’s voice. The cowboy started putting a saddle on his biggest pony. He didn’t point out a sign that showed the height requirement for riders. So the sad sack in the suit was over five feet tall? So what? He hadn’t had a customer all day and twenty bucks was twenty bucks.

“Wow, I’ve never done it in the hay before,” the woman drawled afterwards.

Creed stared at her in amazement, “Really? I’ve rolled in the hay quite a lot.”

“Two dollars says they’re fake,” Kevin pointed at a buxom woman hawking feather earrings.

Stanley checked her out, “You’re on.”

Kevin nudged Meredith, “Go on, go ask her. She’ll tell you. You’re a woman.”

Meredith nodded, “Okay. Just this once but you both have to buy me a beer.”

“Waaaaait… a beer costs five bucks.” Kevin calculated quickly in his head, “Even if I win, I’d still lose a buck.”

Stanley looked over at another booth, “Another two dollars says the Chakra lady’s aren’t real.”

Kevin and Meredith swiveled to see a booth full of crystals and polished geodes. The woman sitting on a stool was wearing a form-disguising muumuu.

“Oh, you are so on!” Kevin handed Meredith his four dollars for safe-keeping. “Do both of them and we’ll buy you a beer.”

Meredith looked slightly unsure, “But nobody follows me, okay?” The two men nodded their assurances.

Meredith walked up and down the stalls examining pamphlets and signs before stopping in front of the feather earring stall. “Hey,” she whispered, “I’ve got a bet with those two chumps over there….”

“Come on, Halpert. I’m hot and it’s the only air-conditioned building,” Karen crossed her arms defiantly until Jim relented.  Once he was in the Arts and Crafts building, he scanned the room to make sure Pam wasn’t there. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that she wasn't there.

“Oh man, look at this,” Karen had pointed at a landscape laughing. “We’re like in the vortex of Bob Ross’ brain!”

He realized that Karen was waiting for his reaction. He shrugged. What could he say? The landscape looked pretty good to him. Of course, Pam’s were better, but still…

“Can you believe we could be so close to New York City and find this type of... well, I don't think art is the word?” She looked around in excitement, “ I just know there’s a velvet painting here somewhere.” She gasped, “Look! Someone's painted a sad clown!” Karen grabbed Jim’s hand and pulled him towards the offending picture. Jim looked longingly towards the entrance… any minute now she might walk in.

“She’s cute,” Ryan pointed listlessly at a girl walking by.

Pam checked out the girl in question. She was wearing not enough clothing and too much makeup, “Yeah. Where’s Kelly?”

“On the Ferris Wheel,” Ryan gestured behind him and upwards. His eyes remained fixed on the people walking by.

Pam looked up and saw Kelly waving wildly down at them. Oscar was sitting next to her. Even from this distance, Pam could tell Oscar looked uncomfortable at how Kelly was tipping the gondola. Pam waved so that Kelly would stop. Kelly didn’t stop. Pam shrugged and returned to talking to Ryan and being bored out of her mind.

“So,” she finally said, “Why didn’t you go on the Ferris Wheel with Kelly?”

“I want to save my tickets for the Motion Simulator, fear of heights, I just ate a chili dog, feeling queasy, fear of falling, had to use the bathroom,” Ryan reeled these off with barely a thought.

Pam examined him for a few seconds, “And the real reason?”

“Kelly. For 10 minutes. On a Ferris Wheel. And no way off,” Ryan’s eyelids drooped at the mere thought of it.

“I love Michael Scott,” Dwight told the bartender. “And I love this guy. What’s your name again?”

“Dreeeew,” Andy was proud that he’d remembered his new name under such trying circumstances. A lot of his frat brothers couldn’t remember their real names after five lagers!

“Thas right, I love Drew. And I love Ryan’s cute little nose!” Dwight held up his empty glass, “We’re Dumber Mifflin’s Champion Army of Dwights!”

“To Dwights!” Andy lifted his glass

.

The Kiwanis bartender gave a sign to a group of Rotarians sitting near the beer garden entrance. Before the glass touched Andy’s lips, he’d been lifted by the seat of his pants and tossed over the fence. “That’s what I’m talking about!” He screamed.

Dwight landed beside him with a grunt. “Barhop, I’d like my tab, please,” he mumbled.

Jim examined the Gold Rosette winning picture. It was a detailed sketch of two children and a dog playing in the spray of a garden hose. Jim thought it was pretty good. He wondered what Pam thought of it. “Hey, what do you think of this one?”

“Why do they give out so many ribbons? Don’t they know they’re just encouraging all these amateurs?”

Jim pulled up with a jerk. For a second, he’d forgotten he was with Karen. “Oh, well…” he tried to think of something neutral. “You’ve got to start somewhere.”

Karen laughed, “Hopefully, for mankind’s sake, they start and end here.”

“I will not go on that ride. It’s juvenile,” Angela looked away from the “Lost City” funhouse in disdain.

Phyllis pursed her lips, “Oh, Angela. It’ll be fun. I bet you’d love the maze of mirrors! It’s like in Grease when…” Angela’s disapproving glare stopped her for a second. “Well, Michael did give us all these tickets. You don’t want to waste them, do you?”

Everyone knew that Angela hated waste more than anything. “All right. I’ll go on the Carousel. But that’s it.”

“How about the Tilt-A-Whirl?” Phyllis suggested.

Angela’s reply was guarded, “What’s that? I don’t want to go on anything that tilts.”

Phyllis smiled, “Oh it doesn’t tilt. I promise. They just named it that because the letters are tilted on the sign.”

“Seriously, that guy is a porker!” Michael screamed so loud that people ten rows down looked back in distress.

Pam, who had unwisely chosen to sit between Michael and Toby, looked over three rows to catch Jim’s eye. Her stomach twisted and she suddenly felt light-headed. Jim was sitting directly behind Karen with his knees around her. He was whispering something in her ear and Karen’s convulsive laughter was shaking a day-glo green teddy bear that she had hugged close to her body.

“Use the syrup, Kevin! Use the syrup!” Michael’s screamed words of wisdom thankfully returned Pam to the world of Pancake-Eating Contests.

“Go Stanley! Chug! Chug! Chug!” Kelly yelled in support of her favorite contestant. Michael ecstatically looked over to see Ryan cheering alongside Kelly.

“Write this down, Pam,” Michael whispered to Pam out of the corner of his mouth. “Eating contests. Ryan likes eating contests.”

Pam and Toby exchanged looks. “Should I put this in the list of things Ryan likes to do in general or the list of things to do for Ryan’s birthday?” Pam’s voice dripped honey.

Toby bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. His dentist had warned him to stop doing that. There was so much scar tissue built up that he was having trouble opening his mouth wide enough for his yearly cleaning.

“Hmmmm,” Michael considered, “Put it in both and also on the list of things Ryan likes to do with people from work.” Pam nodded seriously at his request before turning back to watching Kevin win the contest with 23¼  pancakes in 2 minutes.

Forty minutes after they hit the road, someone noticed Andy wasn’t in the Winnebago.

Annoyed, Michael interrogated everyone at the next pit stop, “Did Andy tell any of you he was staying behind?”

Creed raised his hand, “Yeah, he met this hot mama, fortune teller. Said he was joining the circus.”

Pam was the last person to return the office since she had to explain all the Blue Blast stains to Michael's Mother and Jeff. When she sat down at her desk she nearly cracked three mirrors someone had set on her chair: a ZZ Top, a Playboy Bunny, and a Harley Davidson with Angel Wings.

The turnstile needed oiling.

It smelled like dung.

His shoes were already thickly coated in dust.

She’d forgotten her sunglasses.

They’d raised the prices on the entry fees again.

A baby was crying because of the heat.

It was a perfect day.

“Ooooh,” Pam looked over her shoulder at him, a daring look on her face, “the Zipper! Let’s go!”

Jim barely glanced at his watch, “Oh, look at the time. Time to go home.”

Her smile widened. “The Orbitor line is short, we could…”

“See any restrooms around here?” He scanned the vicinity with a serious face, “I’ve really got to…”

He felt her tugging on his arm. He liked the feel of her weight, here was a ball and chain he wouldn’t mind having. He looked down in her laughing face as she pointed across the fairgrounds, “No, no! Look! The Ferris Wheel!”

He put his hand firmly in the small of her back and pushed her forward, “Well, why didn’t you say so? The best ride…ever.”

“There’s Burger King! Two points!” She made sure he confirmed her sighting.

“Mmmhmmm,” he kept kissing her neck. “Hey,” he murmured, “I think I see a….” He didn’t finish the sentence.

“You can’t see anything,” she giggled. “Ooooh, two more points! Chili’s!”

Jim nodded but was obviously not so easily distracted.

“Jim, I am going to so win. You totally suck at this!” Pam’s eyes were bright as she searched the horizon. She was sure there was an Applebee’s near Chili’s.

Jim’s lips teased her earlobe, “But, Pam, if I suck, I’ll leave a mark!”

Three rides on the Ferris Wheel later, Pam had completely defeated Jim. Final Score 26 ½ points (“Okay, I’ll give you a ½ point for the hot dog cart”) to a measly 7. As they were walking down the grassy midway, they continued their argument over a possible Denny’s sighting.

“There’s no Denny’s within 20 miles of here.”

“Sure there is.”

“Where?”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

The argument was never resolved because Pam suddenly said, “Uh-oh. Hide!”

No questions asked; Jim pulled her into a nearby photo booth. “What is it?”

“Shhhh…” she put her fingers to his lips and tilted her head to listen.

Over the sound of the rides and the children screaming she didn’t hear anything until the swiiiiiiiish sound of the photo booth’s curtain opened. Jim and Pam leapt apart as if they had been caught in the throes of passion.

Michael, wearing fun jeans and a Hammermill t-shirt, was oblivious of the effect he’d had on his two startled employees, “There you are! Jan, look! I told you it was Jim and Pam!”

Jan’s bored expression hardly changed. She was wearing pencil thin black jeans and grey satin shell top. To Jim she looked as out of place at a county fair as Dwight would have looked in a New York nightclub.

“Hi, Pam. Jim. Let’s go, Michael.”

Jim merely nodded while Pam managed a weak, “Hi, Michael. What a surprise.”

Michael ignored Jan as he said, “Small world, When you mentioned you were going to the fair, I thought ‘what are the chances we’d run into each other?’ And now here we are!” He looked around happily as if fate had cast it’s divine hand upon him. “I mean what were the chances? They have to be astronominical! Hey, I just had a great idea. Let’s all go watch the Miss Fair Queen contest together! We can boo and hiss and throw tomatoes…”

Pam was firm, “Michael, I told you. I’m not entering.”

Jim immediately disagreed. “Oh, you should definitely think about it….” She hadn’t mentioned Michael’s many attempts to get Pam to represent Dunder Mifflin at the fair. Jim had to agree with Michael though. He thought Pam had a shot.

Jim was cut off by Jan’s furious exclamation, “Michael, it is completely inappropriate to ask a female employee to…”

Michael rolled his eyes, “Hey, you’re not my boss anymore. I can ask Pam to do anything I want to.” To prove his case he ordered Pam, “So. You know from now on I want you to come topless to work.” His shoulders automatically came up as he tried to stifle his giggles.

“Michael!” Jan’s horrified expression held promises of further screaming in the safety of their condo.

“I’m not coming to work topless,” Pam said calmly. Jim’s disappointed look was registered by no one.

Michael lifted his hands in frustration, He hated an unsupportive audience. “Pam, work with me here. We’re trying to prove a point to the little woman. Just go along with it, okay?”

“I’m not coming in to work topless,” Pam repeated calmly.

Jim stepped in to help the team, “I can come in topless if that’ll help, Michael.”

“That was the lamest excuse ever!” Pam had to hide her head in his shoulder to muffle her laughter.

“Hey,” Jim said in a wounded voice. “I didn’t see you throwing out anything… or did you want to go sit through the Miss Fair Queen contest?”

She held on tightly to his shirt as she shook her head against his chest. He put his arms protectively around her.

“Okay then,” he admonished, “No calling my brilliant excuse lame. Or next time you’re on your own! I’m warning you. I’m very sensitive about my….”

She had to kiss him to make him stop talking.

Finally, when he was completely subdued, she started laughing again, “Promised Dwight to help set up his giant rutabaga exhibit!”

“Hey, you saw how fast Michael took off…” Jim shrugged his shoulders as if saying the proof was in the pudding. “What worries me though,” he added ominously, “Is how intrigued Jan looked by the thought of Dwight’s giant rutabaga.”

“Eeeew!” Pam covered her face in disgust. Passing fairgoers edged away from her rapidly.  She exhibited all the signs of a girl who had just come off some nausea-inducing ride.

Jim smiled happily.

“Ever year I come in here and every year it looks the same,” Pam complained as they went up and down the aisles looking at prize-winning vegetables.

Jim nodded. “They really need some decoration to liven the place up.”

Pam studied the walls of the 4-H building. “We should get Angela to head up a committee…”
“Oh right,” Jim had to laugh. “And next year it will be on your head that the place is covered in cat posters.”

Pam nodded excitedly, “Don’t forget babies dressed as farmers!”

“Thank you for that image, Pam.” Jim gave her the evil eye.

“Of course, we could have someone else decorate,” Pam considered the room once more “….like Kevin!”

“Right. Scantily clad women holding suspiciously shaped vegetables.” Jim considered this for a second, “Not a bad idea, actua…. Ow!”

She fluttered her eyelashes at him, “Hey, where’s Dwight’s exhibit this year? Did he tell you what he was going to enter?”

“Noooo….” Jim delved deep into his memory, “I think he said something to Andy about helping Angela with something.”

The sounds of the fair fell away as soon as they stepped into the dimly lit quonset hut. “Have you ever been in here before?” Pam whispered.

Jim whispered back, “Uh-uh. You?”

“My mom used to drag me in here when I was little. I always… There’s Dwight!” She pointed excitedly down the narrow aisle towards the back. Against a glass case, Dwight leaned. He looked bored.

Jim and Pam smiled at each other.

“They don’t need to eat the whole cake!” Dwight’s face was red from arguing.

Jim looked shocked by this answer, “But for all they know, Dwight, the rest of the cake could taste awful. Would it be fair if they were unlucky enough to eat the only bit without cockroaches in it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jim! Angela’s Angel-Sweet Heaven Cake does not have cockroaches in it.” Dwight’s stubby finger pointed repeatedly at the Blue Ribbon. “It won a Blue Ribbon for Meritous Excellence, a singular honor given only to the….”

Ignoring the ribbon, Jim pointed at the partially eaten cake. “No, no, no, Dwight. The ribbon should have gone to Angela’s Angel-Sweet Heaven Teeny-Tiny Sliver of Cake. Look at it! Most of the cake is still there. And is that..? Pam does that look like a bug’s leg sticking out of the side there?”

Pam examined the cake before nodding furiously, “Dwight, I must say it does look like an insect body part of some kind.”

Dwight lashed out, overwhelmed by the double assault. “Stay out of this, Pam! You don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s not an insect leg, it's a… cherub leg.” His voice sounded unsure.

Pam gave Jim a brief ‘Well, did you hear that?’ look. Jim’s expression was thoughtful.  “A cherub’s leg? Are you sure? I didn’t know cherubs had insect-like legs.” Dwight’s face turned a deeper shade of red. Pam pressed Jim’s back warningly. He quickly switched the subject, “Hey, Dwight. Uh…Glad to see you didn’t enter any vegetables this year. Couldn’t help but notice that Farmer Stinson took top honors.” Jim’s voice was congratulatory.

“Jeb Stinson! He’s no farmer!” Dwight had completely forgotten the slight upon Angela’s prize winning (possibly insect-strewn) cake at the mention of his old foe. “He’s a PNC pencil pusher.” Dwight spit out the bank’s name as if the very name were poisonous.

Jim wiped the spittle of his face as he took a few steps back. “So…yeah. That reminds me. I’ve heard that Jeb Stinson calls you ‘just a paper pusher’, Dwight.”

Dwight fumed, “Just a paper pusher! Why that…! He’s just jealous! He wishes he could be in the paper business, the...” Words failed him.

Jim was now studying Mehitabel Winslow’s Angel-Iced Sugar Delight as he baited Dwight further, “Course, some could say banks and paper… kinda go hand in hand.”

Dwight was horrified.“They most certainly do not. Banks are a dying business, Jim. With the advent of the internet, banks are living dinosaurs. Jeb Stinson will be on the street selling apples. Mark my words.”

“Not pencils?” Pam asked innocently.

Jim glanced at Pam gleefully. She gave him a little ‘I know, I’m brilliant’ look that made his stomach flip-flop.

Meanwhile Dwight was rambling on about the death of pencils, banks, and Jeb Stimson.

Jim nodded seriously as Dwight got more and more excited. “Funny you brought this all up, Dwight. Jeb said to me just the other day, ‘Jim,’ he said. ‘Get out of this paper business. It’s a dying market. With the advent of the internet, paper will be outdated in two, three years. The whole industry will be a distant memory.’”

Dwight’s mouth fell open in shock.

While they were sipping drinks at the Elk’s Lodge Booth, Pam asked, “Who’s Jeb Stinson?”

“No idea,” Jim admitted. “I just read his name off the red ribbon for giant watermelon. I forgot the name of the guy who got blue.”

Pam was a little worried, “You know I’m thinking we should call Jeb Stinson and warn him.”

Jim scoffed. “Okay, are you seriously worried that Dwight is a threat?”

“Noooo,” Pam admitted. “I’m worried Dwight might show up at his doorstep and embarrass himself.”

“Pam, Pam, Pam. Every day Dwight gets up and goes out in the world and embarrasses himself. Why should today be any different?” Jim poured his rapidly melting ice cubes into her glass.

“True.” Pam looked around to make sure no one was watching before she gave him a quick kiss.  

“Oh, yay!” They were in the Fair Crafts Building and Pam was pleased to be standing in front of a purple ribbon. “I’m so glad she took my advice!” Pam turned joyfully to smile at Jim.

Jim looked surprised. She hadn’t mentioned it to him earlier. “You told her to enter?”

“A while ago,” Pam’s voice was smug. “She’s entered her painted china for years and never won a thing. I told her to enter her knitting and look! A purple ribbon!”

Jim glanced around guiltily before admitting. “It’s the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen.”

Pam nodded, “The uglier a sweater, the harder it is to knit. My Mom would kill for this sweater.”

“What do I say if Phyllis asks if we saw it?” Jim looked around again to make sure no one could overhear. There were several old ladies critiquing the quilts down the way and he hated how they kept looking over at him.

“Hmmm, tell her that you saw it and, uh, that it was the most complicated knitting you’d ever seen.” Pam said in a low voice.

Jim looked with horror at the sweater, “What if she asks if I liked the colors?”

“Oh, that one’s easy. Say you think Kelly would look phenomenal in those five shades of purple!” Pam advised.

Jim glanced at the old ladies again. They were definitely watching him and he wanted to get out of there. Take Pam somewhere where they could be alone, “Phenomenal? Couldn’t I just say ‘hot’?”

“No. No one else in the entire world is hot besides me, yes?” Pam was firm about this.

Jim whispered in her ear, “You so hot.”

“Well, that was embarrassing,” Jim admitted.

Pam was still blushing.

The little old ladies had come up to them purely to taunt, tease, and torture them about being young and healthy.

“Next time,” Jim looked at her apprehensively. He hated it when Pam was embarrassed. “Next time, we should have a signal word for little old ladies with dirty minds.”

Pam looked off into the distance, “Meredith.”

“Well, yes,” Jim immediately agreed, “There’s a lady with a dirty mind. Although I don’t think I’d call her…”

“No, no. There’s Meredith. And she’s with Jake.”

Jim did a 180, “Run.”

“Remember when you were little and you wanted to take a bunny home from the fair?” Pam put a finger through one of the cages to pet the side of a black satin rabbit named George.

“No,” Jim gazed fondly down at Pam. He wished he had a camera. “I wanted a car from the demolition derby.”

Pam looked up, surprised. “But they’re all wrecks.”

“I know. I thought they were cool,” Jim shrugged as if this was obvious.

She couldn’t fathom this, “But why? They’re all busted up.”

“Uh,” Jim had never given it much thought, “well, you wouldn’t have to worry about getting in a wreck…”

“Yeah,” Pam agreed, “and your insurance would be really low.”

Jim smiled, “Exactly. That was a huge concern for me when I was 10.”

“Jim!” Jim and Pam turned at the sound of Toby’s voice.

Pam smiled at one of her favorite office mates, “Toby!” She noticed that Sasha was already running open-armed towards Jim. He leaned down helpfully so that she could climb up on to his shoulders. From on high, the little girl started pointing at all the rides and prizes she wanted.

Toby looked from Jim to Pam speculatively, “Hey, so hanging out?”

“Avoiding Michael,” Pam stage whispered. “He’s here somewhere with Jan. Oh, and Dwight’s here, too.”

Toby sighed.

Jim entered the conversation, “I’m taking the little lady over to win her a giant Spongebob, ‘k?”

“Sure, great,” Toby barely watched as Jim carried his daughter off. “So, Pam, do you like the rides? I’ve got some extra tickets if you like the Zipper, or whatever.”

Pam’s voice was worried, “So do you think any of them suspect?”

In the darkness, Jim’s voice was cheerful. “Oh absolutely. Sasha’s no dummy.”

“No, come on, be serious. Do you think Michael guesses? Because he’s going to be awful.” There was an undercurrent of fear in her voice.

Suddenly a burst of color illuminated the parking lot.

Involuntarily, Pam cried out, “Ooooh!”

“Nice one,” Jim agreed. “Nah, everyone thinks we’re just pals hanging out.”

The night seemed darker after the last of the firework faded.

“Thank you for the doll,” Pam snuggled closer to him.

“Yeah, well.” He smiled. “Everyone needs a Dora the Explorer doll for their mantelpiece.”

“I don’t have a mantel,” Pam reminded him.

Another firework burst above them. A giant white willow that wept across the sky.

“Well then, I’ll have to win you one at next year’s fair,” Jim hugged Pam closer to him. Dora the Explorer looked on from her prime spot in the front seat of his car.