(Desk shots: Stanley, Kevin and Oscar are on their phones. Kelly is talking to the mail carrier. Phyllis is filing, Meredith is staring disgusted at something on Kevin’s computer, Pam is glancing over to where Dwight and Angela are seated across from one another.)
(Dwight’s phone rings.)
Dwight: Dunder Mifflin Paper Products, Quality Control Division, Dwight Schrute speaking. Alright. (pulls out a pink QC form) Mm-hm. What was the purchase order number on that? Okay, let me look that up. (realizes it’s one of his) Yes, sir, I understand. I’ll take care of it right away. Yes. Can I call you back at—oh, okay, what number is best? (he copies down a phone number) Yes. Yes, sir, I’ll look into it right away. Good-bye.
(Angela looks across at him questioningly)
Dwight: (filling out the pink form) Warehouse screwed up one of my sales. Unacceptable. Customers expect—
(his phone rings again)
Dwight: Dunder Mifflin Paper Products, Qua— (he flinches and holds the phone away from his ear briefly) Sir? Sir? Calm down a moment…(flinches again)…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you…yes, of course…what was the purchase order num—...okay, um, what is your company name? Of course, I’m sure there’s a simple explanation…(searching computer screen)…yes, I’m looking…no, sir…yes, sir, I realize time is money…
(Angela frowns at him)
Dwight: …of course…ah, here it is. Fifty reams of 20-lb copier bond…it should be five hundred reams? Oh. No, of course…I’ll get it over to you as soon as possible. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir, we apprec— (looks at dead phone line, hangs up)
Angela: Whose sale was that?
Dwight: Mine.
Angela: Oh.
Dwight: Unacceptable. I’ll be in the warehouse. (grabs two pink forms, leaves)
x x x x x
Dwight: Negligence is inexcusable in business. My grossvater learned that the hard way. When he was wooing his sweetheart, he promised to pay her father six fat goats for her hand. But he left the feeding of the goats to his lazy brother. Needless to say, the goats never got fat. And my grossvater had to settle for marrying his sweetheart’s bald, toothless sister. A valuable lesson.
x x x x x
(Angela’s phone rings.)
Angela: Dunder Mifflin Quality Control, this is Angela. (frowns) Mr. Schrute is away from his desk right now, do you have a quality control issue? Oh. Yes, I can take a message for him. What is your name? (frowns again) Phone number?...And your message? (her pen freezes) I’m sorry, he left what in your what? I think you must have the wrong—…yes, paintball… (she looks toward the front office door, then curtly) I’ll give him your message.
(Angela slams the message down on Dwight’s desk, grabs her purse, and leaves. Pam watches her go, with a thumbs-up to the camera crew)
(Michael is pacing around his office squeezing a stress ball in each hand; he has removed his jacket and tie, loosened his collar, and rolled up his sleeves; Ryan sits at Michael’s computer, watching him, his hands poised above the keyboard)
Michael: Okay…main character…young…hot…hip…
Ryan: Female? Male?
Michael: Oh! (scornfully) Male, definitely. (to camera) Not that there aren’t female heroes out there! There are. And they have great outfits. But, “write what you know”, as they say!
Ryan: A teenager?
Michael: No, too young.
Ryan: Twenties?
Michael: Mmmm…
Ryan: (looking at Michael, then nodding) Early forties?
Michael: Late thirties.
Ryan: (sighs) And what does our hero do?
Michael: I’m thinking…something in…upper management…
Ryan: Regional Manager…?
Michael: Yes! Of a…let’s see…let’s see…
Ryan: A pap—
Michael: A pencil company! Perfect.
x x x x x
Michael : I think it’s really important to present kids with realistic heroes. I mean, wands and flying brooms? Spells? What kid’s gonna go for that? No, they’re gonna say, keep it real, man. Represent.
x x x x x
(Michael’s phone buzzes.)
Michael: Yes?
Kelly: Hi, Michael? Jan’s on the line. She said she needs to know when to expect the expense reports?
Michael: Sure, put her through. (rubs his hands together)
Kelly: Actually, she said to just ask you myself.
Michael: Oh. Uh…okay. (shrugs to camera) They go out tomorrow by courier.
Kelly: Okay…thanks…
(The intercom line stays open. Ryan avoids looking at the phone. Michael looks at it expectantly.)
Michael: I-i-i-s there anything else?
Kelly: (shyly) Hi, Ryan.
Ryan: (embarrassed) Hi…Kelly. We’re kind of busy right now.
Kelly: Okay, well, maybe we can meet for lunch? There’s a cute little—
(Ryan picks up the handset, and replaces it, cutting her off)
Ryan: (glances at the camera, slightly guilty) Um, where were we?
(A knock at Michael’s door)
Michael: Entrez!
(Darryl enters.)
Michael: Darryl, my man? How’re ma peeps—
Darryl: Why is Dwight on Quality Control?
Michael: What? Why?
Darryl: I just spent fifteen minutes being blamed for supply errors that never happened. Fifteen minutes that should have been spent loading the 1:00 truck. My guys shouldn’t have to pick up the slack.
Michael: Oh…I, uh…where is he?
Darryl: He took the van and forty-five cases of paper. I don’t know where the hell he went, but that van better be in one piece when he gets back!
Michael: Yeah…uh…
Darryl: I don’t want him in my warehouse again, Michael. He’s a jackass.
Michael: Um…sure…sorry, I…
(Darryl walks out. Michael looks relieved, tries to laugh it off to the camera. He wipes his forehead, turns back to Ryan.)
Michael: So…um…h-how about some lunch? (picks up the phone)
(Stanley, Toby, and Jim are in the lunch room. Stanley is spreading mayonnaise on a sandwich. Kevin enters.)
Toby: Whatcha got there, Stanley?
Stanley: Turkey and swiss. Teri made it, but she always leaves off my favorite part.
Jim: You like Miracle Whip?
(Kevin realizes it’s his Miracle Whip.)
Stanley: I love the tangy zip.
(Toby and Jim chuckle. Stanley finishes making sandwich, puts MW jar in fridge)
Kevin: Hey, that’s mine.
Stanley: Is it? (takes his sandwich back to his desk)
Kevin: Yeah.
(Pam enters, sits down next to Jim)
Pam: (grins) Hey.
Jim: So?
Pam: Mission launched.
Jim: Where are they now?
Pam: Dwight’s down in the warehouse. Angela left for lunch. (smirks) She didn’t look happy.
x x x x x
Pam: Oh…it’s just office pranks. You know. They’re harmless. I mean, things get kind of slow on Fridays.
x x x x x
(Parking lot at the end of lunch hour. Phyllis pulls into a parking spot. Angela is right behind her, and angrily pulls into a nearby spot. Both exit their cars.)
Angela: I wish you wouldn’t insist on parking in my spot.
Phyllis: Your spot? (looking around for a sign) They aren’t labeled.
Angela: I’ve been working at this company longer than you have, and I feel I deserve a parking spot that reflects that.
Phyllis: Well, Angela, I don’t see what difference it makes. The parking lot’s so small…
Angela: Then you won’t mind parking farther away from the door. Consider it exercise.
x x x x x
Angela: It’s about respect. There’s entirely too little respect shown around here. (abruptly leaves interview)
x x x x x
(Camera shows Phyllis leaning on her car, upset and smoking, clutching a tissue. After a while, she throws her smoke on the ground, wipes her eyes with the tissue, and heads back into the office building.)
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali