In the parking lot, Dwight pauses before unlocking the doors of his old, paint-stripped Datsun. He stands next to Jim, holding out his hand. "You and me, Jim." He smiles proudly. "We're a team now. We're impenetrable. A solid force."

Jim takes Dwight's hand and shakes it, grinning. He's never really been a part of a team that wasn't high school basketball, but he kind of likes the way it sounds now. Even though he's only been working at Dunder-Mifflin for less than two months, he knows that Dwight is one of the best salesmen they have, and the fact that he gets to work with him is exciting and makes him feel like he's doing something right in his life, like maybe applying for this job wouldn't be such a bad thing after all because he might actually become good at it. 

They pull into the parking lot of the distribution center for one of the local supermarkets. Jim's kind of relieved to see that it's not a huge office building. It's pretty big, but not intimidating. If Dwight thinks he can do it, that he's ready, then he's definitely ready. He takes a deep breath before opening the car door.

"Wait."

Jim looks over at Dwight, his hand frozen on the door handle. "Okay," he agrees. "What's up?"

Dwight slides his chair as far back as it will go. "This is very important, Jim. Confidence is key in making any sale." After a moment of digging in the glove compartment, Dwight produces a cassette tape that he pushes into the tape deck. He turns up the volume on the car stereo so loud that Jim's first reaction is to want to cover his ears. Heavy metal comes pouring from the speakers.

He watches, his mouth slightly agape as Dwight begins to bang his head, making motions with his hands that look like a mix between fist pumps and karate chops. He twists his torso and begins strumming wildly on an air guitar.

"Come on!" he yells to Jim over the music. "Confidence is key!"

Jim has no idea what to do. He wonders if he should get out of the car and let Dwight do whatever it is that he's doing, or if he should keep watching. He really wants to look away, because what's going on is ridiculous, but strangely, he's unable to.

So he goes along with it, sort of, figuring it can't hurt. It's completely weird, but he thinks that if this is something that he should get used to (like maybe it's some sort of ritual for Dwight) then he may as well play too. Dwight had said that they were a team, and he really needs to keep this job.

He bobs his head slightly, checking to make sure that no one is close enough to them in the parking lot to notice him. He drums his fingers against the dashboard. He can't bring himself to do any more than that, but he did play basketball in school, so he understands rituals.

When Dwight turns the car off, Jim opens his door and straightens his tie and his jacket. He recites Rule Number Three in his head:

Dwight had said that was the most important rule of all, and Jim is completely focused on making sure he does it right.

* * * * *

Michael had specifically told Dwight that morning not to scare off the new guy.

What Dwight thinks Michael doesn't understand, however, is that it's not fear that's driving away most of the new employees. It's the feeling of inadequacy that they get when he tells them that, fact: he has been one of the top five salesmen in the company since his third week, and fact: he will be made assistant regional manager by the end of next month, if he has anything to say about it. Dwight had told Jim these things on his second day, and Jim hadn't flinched, so he's almost certain it's a good sign that Jim has the utmost respect for his superiors.

He likes Jim so far. He's intelligent, learns quickly, and follows instruction well. He smiles too much, but they can work on that.

The potential client was the distribution center for the local Foodtown, and Dwight has never dealt with Edwin Jackson (the manager) before. When the manager's secretary leads them into his office, Dwight takes the seat to the right of Jim. His peripheral vision is keener in his left eye, and he knows he'll need to watch Jim as closely as possible without making it too obvious.

Before Jim begins his pitch, Dwight turns to him, his lips pursed, and gives a short nod.

He pays close attention to the Mr. Jackson's face as Jim speaks, because he can usually tell within the first five minutes if the potential client has any interest. He'd warned Jim a hundred times not to use his hands while he talks, and he's holding them in his lap, which is acceptable.

"I know that most of the work done here requires order forms, invoices, and confirmation sheets," Jim says steadily. "So I have a number of products to offer you today that can meet all of those needs. We know that we can provide you with the same level of quality that your customers have come to expect from your company."

It's a bit textbook, Dwight thinks, but so far the manager seems to be taking it all in.

"Let's get to the chase," Mr. Jackson cuts in. "What are we looking at as far as cost?"

Dwight listens as Jim goes over the prices of lightweight bond paper and regular text paper. Mr. Jackson rubs his chin, and glances at his watch.

"Okay," he says. "I'll sign."

Dwight hides his smile as Mr. Jackson signs his name on the contract.

Outside in the parking lot, Dwight raises his hand towards Jim to high-five him. "Way to go, Jim!" he laughs. "I told you this morning that I wouldn't talk unless your pitch started going down the crap-tube, and I didn't even have to say a word. Well done, my friend." He pats Jim on the back.

"Thanks," Jim says, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "That really wasn't as hard as I thought it would be."

Of course it wasn't. I told you. You and me, we're a team. Tango and Cash."

Jim smirks. "So we're buddy cops, now?"

"Better. We're paper salesmen, working together to destroy the competition." Dwight unlocks the passenger side door of his car.

"Right. Never mind." Jim opens the door, but stops before getting in. "Hey, thanks for everything, Dwight. I really learned a lot today."

He puts his hand on the back of Jim's neck, grinning proudly, and he decides they should try to come up with a name for their team. Or at least a theme song.