At five in the morning, Pam Beesly started her morning routine of rolling out of bed and into the shower. After standing under the water and washing, she set the water to cold to wake herself up. Shrieking in shock and now wide awake, she turned off the water, and shivered as she bundled up in her towel to dry off and finish her morning routine of dressing, taming her hair, and eating some toast with a side of whatever fruit happened to be closest in the bowl on her dining room table. Pam was glad that no one expected her to look good for her job, as otherwise the six in the morning start time would be a lot less manageable. As it stood, Pam worked in a sequestered corner of the Dunder Mifflin Emergency Services Station, as one of a handful of dispatchers, directing police, fire, and paramedics to their calls. Occasionally if it was busy, she would have to answer a 911 call that the operator couldn’t take, but that didn’t happen all too often with the slow-paced nature of the rural community.
Pam lived in the north-eastern area of the town, in what had once been Mifflin Village, and as such she had to cross Dreary Creek to the west, and head out to the highway overpass to get across the train tracks to the south unless she wanted to gamble and get caught waiting at a crossing. It seemed that no matter which choice one made, it was the wrong one, so Pam had long ago decided to forgo the risk, and take the highway overpass even if it did add a few minutes to her commute every morning, it was well worth it to avoid the psychic trains. Plus, the fields surrounding the town were especially beautiful at daybreak, and Pam loved to try and imprint the sunrise in her mind so that she could attempt to recreate it later when she got home.
Upon arriving in the parking lot Pam was greeted by an unusual amount of activity, in the form of what looked to be two broadcast vans bristling with equipment being unloaded in the visitors’ parking area. Intrigued but otherwise occupied with ensuring that she didn’t trip over her own feet, Pam continued on her way into the station, presenting her badge and being buzzed in by the night-watch operator. Pam was the dispatcher for day-watch, which in general ran from six in the morning until four in the afternoon, with a rotation to pull a double shift and fill in the gap between the night watch, which started at eight. Today was Monday, and thus it was not Pam’s turn to pull a double at dispatch. Phyllis, the daytime operator, was coming in at ten and would cover the gap today. That did however mean that until Phyllis got in this morning, Pam was pulling double duty as Dispatch and Operator, which meant she would be very busy.
Pam walked through the Dunder Mifflin Police Services area of the station and into the communal break area, where she deposited her lunch in the fridge and made her way back through the police administrative offices towards the back corner, where the dispatch office was. Beside the dispatch and operator’s office, was the detective’s nook, which was usually inhabited by Detective Flenderson. Directly in front of the dispatch area was a desk clump for constables to do paperwork, usually occupied by Constables Schrute and Halpert of day watch. Constable Halpert, or Jim, was Pam’s best friend at work, and sat at the desk facing her window into the office area, whereas Constable Dwight Schrute, sat with his back to her.
Pam entered the dispatch partition and shut the door behind her, making her way over to her cubicle after waving at the night operator, who’s name she still didn’t know as they had just started a few weeks ago, and sat down. Pam went through her routine, checking the call indicator light by calling her voicemail, logging in to the dispatch software, which took ages to load, and opening the operations program as well as she was covering this morning. After logging in to everything and setting herself as active, Pam rolled her chair back and caught the night operator’s eye, giving her a thumbs up to let her know that Pam was ready for handoff. They came over with a notepad and let Pam know that the only thing going on was a hospital patient transfer from Dunder Memorial to the capital, which was a two and a half to three hour round trip, so Medic-3 was out of action. Waving bye to the night dispatcher, Pam rolled back into her cubicle and waited, glancing up to see Jim stand up from his desk, giving her a wave, and heading out the door leading to the parking lot.
Shortly after Jim left the building, Pam heard the radio crackle with the message she had been anticipating.
“Dispatch this is Adam twelve, day watch clear,” came Jim’s voice over the radio.
“Adam twelve, day watch clear,” Pam confirmed as she flipped his status from off duty to patrolling on the dispatch system.
“Adam twenty two, Adam twenty two, return to the station for end of watch,” Pam called over the radio, letting the night watch officer know that he was clear to return.
“Dispatch, Adam twenty two, good copy, and good morning,” the gruff and tired sounding voice signed off, and Pam changed their status to returning to station, so that she knew to check up on them if they didn’t confirm their return in a few minutes.
“Dispatch, Medic-1 here, we are staged at Main and Mifflin,” Oscar, one of the day-watch paramedics informed her, and she updated their status accordingly.
Pam continued updating unit statuses, and as the watch change came to an end half an hour later, she was granted a brief reprieve. That was broken, however, when the phone rang, displaying the line for 911.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” Pam asked as she picked up, her on-call light flashing in her periphery.
“Uh, hi, there’s been a crash,” a shaken sounding female answered.
“Where did this happen?”
“At the corner of, uhm, Dunder, and Main Street.”
“Is anyone hurt?”
“Uh, the other driver isn’t awake… I think they hit their head”
“Were there any other vehicles involved?” Pam asked, before quickly muting her phone microphone and speaking into the radio.
“Medic-1, Truck-1, stand by for traffic,” Pam said quickly, flipping her phone back on to continue gathering information.
“No, just myself and the other car,” the caller responded.
“How long ago did this happen?”
“Just before I called you, I called as soon as I saw the other guy wasn’t awake.”
Pam switched back over to the radio, “Medic-1, Truck-1, please respond to a motor vehicle collision, at the corner of Dunder Ave and Main Street, report of one unconscious driver.”
Pam flipped back to the phone, “Ok, do you see any fuel leaking, any indication that the vehicle may catch fire such as smoke or a smell of fumes? Help is on the way, I just need as much information as possible.”
“Uhm, I’m not sure, something is leaking but it doesn’t smell.”
“Ok, thanks, can I get your name?”
Pam took their name and number, assuring them that help was on the way as she heard Truck-1 departing the garage with its siren wailing.
“Dispatch, Truck-1, en-route, ETA three minutes,” the voice of the young new firefighter informed Pam over the radio, Constable Kapoor had been quite enamoured with him as of late she recalled.
“Thanks Truck-1, advise when on-scene; Medic-1, what is your status?”
“This is Medic-1, we have arrived on scene and are assessing now, stand by,” Angela’s frosty voice informed her. Angela was the other paramedic on Medic-1.
“Copy Medic-1, standing by for situation report,” Pam paused, taking a breath, “Adam twelve, respond code three to Dunder Ave and Main Street for a motor vehicle collision, any other unit in the vicinity backup Adam twelve, code two,” she intoned.
“Adam twelve copies, I’m two away, heading there code three,” Jim responded.
“Dispatch this is Adam eleven, I will backup twelve, responding code two, ETA five minutes,” Dwight’s nasally voice squawked from her radio.
“Dispatch copies, Adam twelve responding code three, Adam eleven responding code two, no further units required at this time,” Pam said to remind the other patrol cars out there to stay in their sectors and not wander over to gawk at the crash.
Pam leaned back as radio traffic slowed again, breathing out a sigh as she loosened her shoulders. When she looked out across the office, she was perplexed by the sight that greeted her. Captain Scott, the Officer in Charge of the Dunder Mifflin Police Service, appeared to be touring the office with a large camera crew in tow, that did not bode well. Before Pam could dwell on this, the radio picked up again.
“Dispatch this is Medic-1, we’re transporting one patient to Dunder Memorial, non-expedited,” Oscar’s voice informed her.
“Copy that Medic-1, transporting one to hospital, non-urgent.”
“Dispatch, Adam twelve here, we’re code four here, returning to the station,” Jim called over the radio.
“Copy Adam twelve, scene is code four and returning to station.”
“Adam eleven, code four and returning to patrol,” Dwight cleared from the call as well.
“Copy that Adam eleven, code four and proceed with patrol.”
“Truck-1, returning to station.”
“Truck-1, back to the station,” Pam confirmed.
The rest of Pam’s morning before her break was eaten up by coordinating the cleanup of the accident scene, and a few reports on the station’s non-emergency line. By the time ten o’clock rolled around, Pam was glad that Phyllis was there so that she could take a break. Looking up from her desk, Pam caught Jim’s eye as he was doing paperwork for the earlier accident and jerked her head towards the breakroom.
Pam was just sitting down with her yogurt when Captain Scott barged into the breakroom with the gaggle of cameramen and boom operators in tow, making a beeline for her. Pam shot a panicked look around, but Jim had yet to make an appearance, and before he could Michael had corralled her into the lecture hall where she was surrounded by the film crew. Pam’s head was still kind of spinning with how fast it happened.
“Pam Beesly here is our day-watch dispatcher,” Michael was telling one of the cameras, “Not only has she got a rockin’ bod, but her voice on the radio,” he trailed off and made an exaggerated shudder, “I could listen to that all night if you know what I mean.”
“What?” Pam demanded with a frown, causing Michael to freeze like a dear caught in headlights.
“Uhm, so, anyway, Pam, this is a TV crew, they’re going to make us famous, isn’t that great,” Michael changed tack quickly, struggling to recover from his earlier comments.
“What?” Pam asked in confusion, sounding dumb to her own ears.
“Oh my word, doesn’t anyone read my memos,” Michael asked exasperatedly.
“Oh… there was a memo? I forgot to check my email this morning,” Pam admitted in embarrassment.
“No bother, I will simply regale you with the same pitch I made to the Treasurer, Ms. Levinson-Gould!” Michael exclaimed, obviously very excited to talk about whatever his master plan was.
“The TV crew here, are going to be documenting the day-to-day lives of the people behind the almighty Dunder Mifflin Emergency Services,” he began, “And as a part of that they will be interviewing everyone at various points to let the people know that we are real humans too! And did I mention that they are paying the town the big bucks for this privileged access,” he said with raised eyebrows.“So, what is it, like, C.O.P.S.?” Pam deadpanned, causing Michael to facepalm.
This has been rolling around in my head for a while. I don't have a definitive direction for it yet, but I figured I'd put this out there to gauge response.
I am by no means experienced in any facet of what I am writing about, so please excuse my lack of knowledge and artistic liberties. I am basing this purely off of ADAM-12, other misc. TV, and a few books I've read. If anything I write is particularly wrong or egregious, let me know and I'll do my best to correct it!
Also note that due to my lack of knowledge this is going to be a glorious bastardisation of Canadian and American systems.