In a perfect world, Dwight wouldn't be a paper salesman. He'd be a fierce warrior. A hero. No, a superhero, and he'd have the power to crush mortals and robots with a single glancing blow to the neck. Except if it were a robot he'd have to somehow manage to confuse it, and then while it was spinning in circles, sneak attack! The robot would go down in a sputtering mess of sparks and coils and the day would be saved, once again, by Dwight K. Schrute. And no one would ever know that it was him. Until, of course, the next day when it comes out on the headline of all the newspapers reading: ROBOT MASSACRE FOILED BY DWIGHT K. SCHRUTE.
That's how it should be. He'd have to have a sidekick, obviously. Too bad the only one fit for that role is Jim, mainly because he's tall enough to see eye to eye with, and that's always an important characteristic in a partner. Michael has his advantages, although height isn't one of them. He's better with women than Jim is, but since when is that necessary to take on the universe? Dwight would much rather his partner be able to move objects with his mind than to have sex with his boss.
If Dwight were to enlist Jim as his sidekick, he'd have to dump Karen. No question about it. Women only get in the way, and they cry whenever you want to do cool things like take off in the middle of the night to fight injustice. Also, they hate guns. What's the point of being a superhero if you can't carry two guns, like in Halo 2? So, no women. Well, maybe one. But none for Jim, because the way it works is that the superhero gets the girl, and the sidekick just makes stupid jokes all the time. The whole point of the sidekick is to make the superhero look better, anyway.
Of course, a superhero and his sidekick would need a mode of transportation. Jim's car wouldn't do at all, since it's more fit for children and groceries. But Dwight's Trans-Am would be perfect for a lightning-fast getaway, or even for just cruising the beat, scoping out potential perpetrators. Plus, it has a killer sound system. Most importantly, Dwight would build a switch that when activated, would convert the car into levitation mode for situations where they're on a high-speed chase and they reach the edge of a cliff. The Trans-Am would lure the enemy right into an endless chasm, and then, fshoooooom! It would lift off, and land safely on the other side. And nobody would have seen that coming.
They would be modest heroes. By day, they'd be simple, common citizens. But when night falls, they'd slink into the shadows and emerge only at the sound of danger. Scranton and its surrounding areas can be frightening, at times, and there's no underestimating the need for crime fighters with ninja power. When the gangs come out into the dark alleys to do their monstrous deeds, Dwight and his sidekick Jim would be right behind them. They'd know the rules of Kung Fu (never trust a stranger, or a man with facial hair), at least Dwight would, and he'd fight the criminals on his own, if he needed to. Jim could hold the flashlight.
Eventually, they would find him: the most evil of all criminals, the arch nemesis. He'd be hiding behind a tree wearing a green striped tie and a plaid shirt, and he'd run and jump into his X-Earth that is no match whatsoever for the Great Levitating Trans-Am. Dwight and Jim would chase him around corners and down side streets until smashhh! They'd intercept him at an inters...section. Bits and pieces of metal and glass would go flying everywhere. Dwight would pull him out of his car by the collar, and then Jim would probably say something dumb that nobody would laugh at. But Dwight would laugh, right in Andy's face, because he's pathetic. And a wuss. He'd throw Andy into the back of the Trans-Am, and drag him into the Lackawanna County Courthouse.
Then they'd wish they'd given him a real badge. But he wouldn't even care.
