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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Note: “x x x x x” denotes a talking head segment.

x x x x x
Michael: Last week, one of my staff, one of my friends, had a scare. He thought he might have skin cancer. He doesn’t, but that really got me thinking. We only get one chance to get things right in this life, one chance to grab our dreams and wrestle them to the ground. Carpet Diem. So! I have something special planned for my staff today. An exercise that I hope may help one or two of them realize a dream they may not even know they have.
x x x x x

(Everyone is in the conference room.)

Oscar: You want us to trade places with each other?

Michael: That’s right, Oscar. What if accounting isn’t what you’re meant to do with your life? Do you really want to wake up twenty years from now, and say to your…wife…, I wish I’d been a salesman?

Oscar: I really can’t imagine that conversation, Michael.

Michael: Exactly, so you’re all going to trade places, to get a little glimpse of the vast possibilities out there for each of you.

Kelly: Ooo, it’ll be like Freaky Friday!

Phyllis: Oh, like with Jodie Foster…

Kelly: You mean Lindsay Lohan.

Kevin: Lindsay Lohan’s hot.

Phyllis: Who’s Lindsay Lohan?

Michael: Yeah, okay. (sighs) Yes, Dwight?

Dwight: Yes, question: can I trade with you?

Michael: No, Dwight, you cannot trade with me. I’m too important, and you’d just screw things up.

Dwight: (looks hurt)

Michael: Alright, here we go, here are your assignments. Kelly, you’ll be at reception. Pam, accounting…

Angela: Accounting?!

Kelly: Wait, if we’re doing Freaky Friday, then Pam should have my job.

Meredith: I’ll take Kelly’s job!

Creed: Then I’ll take Meredith’s job.

Michael: No! Ugh. This is not Yankee Swap. Listen…just…everyone…go where I tell you to. Pam, Meredith, Phyllis: Accounting. Jim: Human Resources. Oscar, Kevin: Sales. Dwight, Angela: Quality Control. (they exchange furtive smiles) Creed: you’ll be at Kelly’s desk…

Toby: Michael, did Jan OK this?

Michael: Y-yeeessss. Toby. Yes, she did. In fact, it was her idea. She faxed it over yesterday.

Pam: I don’t remember any faxes from Corporate yesterday.

Michael: Well…Pam…if you weren’t so busy sketching kangaroos and koala bears these days, maybe you’d notice when important faxes came in.

Jim: (looks across the room at Pam)

Pam: (sinks down into her chair)

x x x x x
Michael: Jan didn’t really fax this over. She…doesn’t really know about it, per se. But if she did, I imagine she’d say, “Michael? This is exactly the reason you are Regional Manager. You’re innovative. You’re innovative, and you care. And you’re hot.”
x x x x x

Michael: Alright, take ten minutes to get acquainted with your new duties, then let’s chase some dreams, people! Go-go-go!

x x x x x
Toby: I’m about 100 percent certain that Jan knows nothing about this, but, whatever. (Camera pans back to show the security guard’s desk) So, Tate. What would you like me to do first?

Tate: (rolls his eyes)
x x x x x

(Angela and Dwight each lock a drawer on their desks, prompting a glance between Pam and Oscar, who are waiting to take their seats. Meredith watches as Kevin locks all of his desk drawers then goes to Phyllis’ desk. Oscar takes a seat at Dwight’s desk, and taps the Dwight bobblehead; Dwight grabs it protectively and walks to Ryan’s desk, which he carefully explores as though it may be booby-trapped. Angela sits gingerly in Creed’s chair, wrinkles her nose, discovers mung bean sprouts in a drawer, and throws them out.)

x x x x x
Jim: Well, this should be interesting. Michael’s put me in Human Resources. Actually, I plan to be very resourceful today. I have a little project I’ve been planning, and I think today’s the day to implement it. And, well, if it doesn’t work out, I guess I can always play Dunderball with Creed.
x x x x x

Creed: (looking through Kelly’s desk, pockets something)

Ryan: (putting his bag at Jim’s desk) I guess I’ll go here…

Kelly: Yay!

Michael: Actually, Ryan, I have a special position for you.

Kevin: That’s what she said. (Phyllis rolls her eyes as she takes her purse to Oscar’s desk)

Ryan: Oh…no.

Michael: You’ll be in my office today.

Kelly: Aw.

x x x x x
Ryan: I guess I should have seen this coming. (pause) Are you sure you guys don’t have any more questions for me? Maybe something that might take a while to answer?
x x x x x

(Everyone’s getting settled in.)

Kevin: (looks up, notices Stanley’s still at his own desk) Heyyyyy…

Stanley: You hush.

x x x x x
Stanley: Michael forgot about me. I ain’t. Sayin’. Nothin’.
x x x x x

(Ryan and Michael are in Michael’s office.)

Ryan: So…a special position?

Michael: That’s right! Well, not so much a position as a project. A very important project.

x x x x x
Michael: About a month ago, I joined an online dating service. You know, gotta climb that mound and play the field… But there was some kind of mix-up. Every time I tried to log in, I got this message that I’d been blocked from the site. (shrugs) Psh. Who knows? At any rate, it doesn’t matter. I ran into my realtor, Carol, last week, and there were definitely sparks, so… Anyway, she has two kids—great kids, bright kids—and I thought, “What better way to impress a mother than to touch her kids?”
x x x x x

Ryan: You want to write a children’s book. And you need my help?

Michael: Yessiree.

Ryan: Um, I really don’t know that much about kids. (pointing back over his shoulder) You know, Meredith and Toby both have kids…maybe they could…

Michael: Ech. Too depressing. This isn’t The Eight-Year-Old’s Guide to Drinking and Divorce. Please. No. I wanna write something that’ll appeal to today’s hip, young kids. Like Harry Potter, only…local. You know, more accessible, more believable…

Ryan: (muttering) More accessible than Harry Potter.

Michael: …you’re young, you’re fly…I just need somebody to bounce ideas off of.

Ryan: Yeah. (deep breath) Okay.

Michael: Great! Here, take a seat at my computer, and let’s make magic,…Scranton-style!

x x x x x
Ryan: I guess it’s better than making sales calls all day…so close to...you know...reception.
x x x x x

(Pam, Phyllis, and Meredith are in Accounting.)

Phyllis: (grinning) So have you chosen your flower arrangements?

Pam: I was thinking…

(Jim walks up.)

Pam: Oh! Hey.

Jim: Hey. Um, could you come back to Toby’s desk for a minute? He has another form for you to fill out for your vacation days in June.

Pam: Oh…sure.

(Pam follows Jim past Dwight and Angela. Angela gives her a disapproving glance.)

Phyllis: (to Meredith) So, have you done much accounting?

Meredith: (shakes her head, takes a sip from her cup)

x x x x x
Phyllis: Accounting? Oh, heavens, no. I don’t even have a checkbook. I’ve operated cash-only ever since I was a stri—uh, a waitress.
x x x x x

(Creed is sleeping with his feet on Kelly’s desk as Jim and Pam reach Toby’s desk.)

Pam: So…there’s another form?

Jim: Nah, that was just a cover. (leaning toward her, conspiratorially) I wanted to let you in on today’s mission, since you’ll have a front-row seat.

Pam: (excited) Oooo, what?

x x x x x
Jim: So I had this big poker game with my buddies on Valentine’s Day, right? Only, instead of taking all of their money, I extracted favors from each of them, and today I’m calling them all in. Basically, I’ve given each of them details of several of Dwight’s recent sales. He’s about to spend the day being bombarded with quality control complaints about his own sales.
x x x x x

Pam: (laughing) Right across from Angela! Oh, the emasculation…

Jim: Oh, that’s only half of it.

x x x x x
Jim: My roommate’s girlfriend has agreed to play Dwight’s “other woman” for the day. I’ve given her Creed’s normal extension, so, today, Angela should be taking some interesting messages for Dwight from a trucker-slash-paintball-enthusiast named Starla.
x x x x x

Pam: Starla? (she bursts out laughing)

Jim: Is it too much?

Pam: (can’t speak for laughing, shakes her head)

Jim: Alright, so I need you to be my eyes and ears on this, Beesly. Can you handle it?

Pam: (gets control and salutes) I’m on it, sir.

Jim: Excellent. (salutes) Dismissed, soldier.

(Pam leaves.)

Jim: (drums his fingers on Toby’s desk, then…) Heads up, Creed. (throws a Dunderball against the wall that bounces off Creed’s head)

Creed: Hm? Wha—?

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