Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful trip.
That started from this Scranton port,
aboard this party ship.
The mate was a mighty sales man,
the manager brave and sure.
Drunk passengers set sail that day,
for a three hour tour, a three hour tour………
The weather started getting rough,
the party ship was tossed.
If not for the courage of the fearless crew,
the Boozers would be lost; the Boozers would be lost.
The ship took ground on the shore of this uncharted wooded isle,
with Angela, her salesman too,
the Manager, and his temp,
the Warehouse Guy, the Prankster, and Pam-a-lam,
here on Angela's Isle.

On the happy side of the island:

The beach was lovely, the sun had risen and rays reflected off the steel gray water. Waterfowl could be seen flying low in the distance. Pam sat on a fallen tree log enjoying the view as she snuggled as closely to Jim as she could get, “Okay, if you had to be Kevin, who would you do?”

“Dwight, definitely Dwight,” Jim answered immediately.

Pam kicked his foot lightly, “No, you already picked Dwight for Creed. They’re totally….”

“I think Creed would be open to…” Jim grabbed her knee so she wouldn’t kick him again.

Pam laughed, “Oh, sure, but Dwight? Dwight seems like a one-man kinda guy.”

Jim whispered, “True. Okay. How bout Kev and…. Kelly?”

“No! You haven’t seen Kevin’s feet when he takes his shoes off! He’s got some sorta disease…” she made a gagging noise.

“Spare me,” Jim yawned as he imagined the possibilities. “How about Kev and Toby?”

Pam nodded, “Okay, I can see that.”

“Excellent. So we’ve got Kevin and Toby, Stanley and Angela, Dwight and Creed,” Jim tapped off the office pairings on Pam’s knee. “Next up, if you had to be…. Meredith, who would you do?”

Pam considered for a moment, “Hmm... I know I sound like a broken record, but…  I guess I have to put the same answer that we had for Creed and Kevin. Who wouldn’t I do?”

There was a slight hitch in Jim’s voice, “Would you do me?”

“Oh yeah, Meredith would do you in a second,” Pam teased, “Faster, maybe.”

Jim half-smiled but didn’t say anything. Her answer wasn’t exactly the response he’d wanted.

And on the other side of the island:

“I don’t understand,” Michael said to no one in particular.

Angela barked “You don’t need to understand. You just need to lift the palm frond.”

Dwight paused in his work, “Actually, it’s not a palm frond. It’s a sycamore branch and it’s indigenous….”

“Shut it, Dwight,” Michael snarled through gritted teeth.

“Lift it higher. Higher,” Angela pantomimed lifting. The two men ignored her.

“I just don’t see why we’re building a hut when the rescue helicopters are on their way,” Michael complained as he lifted the sycamore branch higher.

“Nice durable wood. Used to make quality butcher blocks and…” Dwight  faltered when he saw Angela’s glare. He lifted the branch higher and continued, “and roofs for huts.”

Dwight felt awful for telling a lie. Sycamore branches made AWFUL roofs for huts. Six-inch leaves did not spread enough to give good coverage. There was no way rain would be stopped by a sycamore branch roof; Dwight was willing to bet his life on it.  If Angela had only let him go and find a good magnolia tree… Those suckers grew foot long leaves and the wood of a magnolia was perfect for making bowls and other containers.

Michael dropped his end of the branch just before they’d reached the crude cross-pole that was erected earlier. “Helicopters!” He pointed excitedly across Lake Wallenpaupack.

Angela glanced over her shoulder. “Bird,” she said simply.

Michael scoffed, “A bird! Don’t be an id…” He bit his tongue in time. Pleased with his quick save he pointed authoritatively at the black speck in the distance. “I know a helichopter when I see one! I studied all the different types of fighter jets when I was in grade school. I know everything there is to know about spotting planes. That’s a Chinook. Typical rescue helicopter,” Michael added knowledgeably.

Dwight was stunned. There were so many facts wrong in Michael’s statement that he didn’t know where to begin.

Angela pointed derisively, “Your helicopter just dived for a fish.”

Somewhere a few hundred yards away amongst the trees.

Ryan was standing on the highest point of the island. Angela had sent him off on that fool errand when he’d failed to supply hot, steaming coffee out of nowhere. He’d had trouble finding the highest point because he couldn’t see anything with all the trees around him. Finally, he just stopped and leaned against a tree.

After a few minutes, he said to no one in particular, “So I understand you want to go to Business School and get your degree. How about this? How about we dump you on a deserted island in the middle of winter instead? Sounds GREAT!”

Somewhere else amongst other trees:

Roy was fumbling through the forest. He'd gone to use the bathroom after he woke up and had immediately gotten lost. He wasn’t too worried. He was still hazy about last night but he remembered the snorkel shots. Darryl must have dressed him up in this get-up after he passed out and dumped him on the beach after they landed. Darryl was always doing stuff like that. Roy would get him back, though. He always did. Like the time Darryl was hitting on that chick who was really a dude? Roy would never let him live that one down!

“Oh crap,” Roy stopped in the middle of a glade. He’d forgotten Pam! “She’s going to kill me,” he moaned. Roy gripped his aching head to stop the pain. They had a rule. If Roy was going to stay out all night drinking with the guys, he had to call her so she wouldn’t worry. Roy groaned again. There was going to be hell to pay when he got home.

Pam and Jim continue to enjoy the view:

“Okay, so, um, Michael and Ryan, Dwight and Creed, Stanley and Angela, Meredith and Phyllis, Kevin and Toby, and Kelly and Oscar,” Pam reeled off the names. “I think that’s everyone.” She looked expectantly at Jim to come up with the next game.

“Not quite,” Jim said. His fingers were definitely turning blue, but he didn’t want to take them off Pam’s knee.

Pam looked startled, “Who’s left?”

“Uh, you,” Jim shyly answered. He realized he was blushing.

Pam looked down at his hand on her knee, “OH! Your hand!” She grabbed it from her knee and placed it between her palms. “No wait,” she exclaimed. “Pulse points!”

He squeezed her hand before asking dreamily, “What?”

“You need to put your hands near the pulse points! They’re the warmest part of the body,” with frantic motions she rubbed his freezing fingers.

He started to lift his free hand towards her chest, “Next to your heart?”

“No, uh, no. Um, let’s see. The underarms and, uh, never mind where else,” she had almost said the groin area. Dutifully she placed his hands underneath her underarms. Pam looked at Jim’s vague expression, “There, is that better?”

Jim wasn’t sure. He’d sort of liked her knee. He’d really liked her rubbing his hands. This was more, well, weird. “Um…okay. Is this something they teach you in Receptionist School?”

“No, I learned it at Medical School,” Pam said seriously.

Taken aback, Jim asked, “I didn’t know…”

She laughed, “Gotcha! No, I think I saw it on Little House on the Prairie.”

Jim snorted.

Offended, Pam retorted with eyes blazing, “Hey, I’m serious. I learned everything from Little House on the Prairie!”

Jim nodded, “Oh yeah, me too. I know everything there is to know about… how hot Laura Ingalls was.”

“Hey! Rob Lowe dated her, so… you know. Just sayin’!” Pam crossed her arms awkwardly. Jim’s hands in her armpits kind of got in the way. She thought of another comeback, “Anyway I don’t see any hot Brat Packers dating you!”

Jim shivered, “Hey! You’re letting in all the cold!”

Pam instantly uncrossed her arms, “Oh!”

“Kidding,” he smiled as he rubbed his thumbs back and forth. “I made a vow back in kindergarten not to date any Brat Packers, ya know, cause I was too cool for them.”

“Uh huh,” Pam nodded as if this were a completely reasonable vow for a six-year-old to make, “I made the same vow.”

“Weird,” Jim said.

Pam smiled, “I know.”

Back on the other side of the island:

Angela was whisking spider webs away from her hands. She’d gone up to the tree line to peer into the forest and walked straight into a dewy web. Annoyed, she called back towards the beach, “Dwight!”

Dwight looked up from peeling birch tree bark to make rope.

“Dwight,” Angela repeated. Her voice was worried now, “Pam and Jim have been gone a long time. Do you think they got lost?”

Michael was throwing rocks into the water to try and kill fish for breakfast. Dwight noted that the splashing rocks would drown out any possible sounds of Pam and Jim screaming for help. He decided not to panic anyone with his suspicions. Instead, he called out, “They were probably attacked by wolves!”

Dwight smiled calmly as Angela dropped and rolled in the sand away from the trees. He wouldn’t mention the tales his Grandfather had told him about the Wallenpaupack Monster that ate Catholics. No reason to tell her about Wally, the Catholic Chomper. Nor would he tell them about the ghost story he’d heard that Cannibal Ghosts still hunted Lake Wallenpaupack. No need to scare anyone until nightfall…. when the Cannibal Ghosts and Wally came out to hunt along the shore.

So this is the tale of our castaways,
they're here for a long, long time.
They'll have to make the best of things,
it's an uphill climb.
The first mate and his girlfriend too,
will do their very best,
to make the others comfortable,
in the frozen island nest.
No phones, no lights, no motor cars,
not a single luxury.
Like Robinson Crusoe,
it's primitive as can be.
So join us here each week my friend,
you're sure to get a smile.
From seven stranded office mates,
Here on Angela's Isle.