The trip to Fort Mifflin would already be long enough with the two-hour drive, but adding Michael’s ukulele and Creed’s travel size bag of mung beans, it was sure to be even longer. The creaky bus lacked air conditioning and the driver looked less than thrilled to be the chauffer for the excursion. It didn’t help when Michael observed the man’s African-American heritage and felt an urgent need to comment on it.
“And what is your name, good sir?”
“Bill,” he replied gruffly.
“Bill! Well Bill, I am Michael Scott and these are my troops. Very important that we get to Fort Mifflin safely…good thing we’re traveling on land and not on water, am I right?” Michael clapped Bill on the back with a laugh.
The man gave a menacing glare and lurched the bus forward, causing Michael to fall into the aisle. He picked himself up and dusted off his hat before reluctantly taking a seat next Dwight.
Pam observed the scene with amusement and turned to her left in hopes of engaging Angela in the joke. Her face fell, though, when she saw Angela had her eyes shut tight and head resting on a neck pillow, thoroughly prepared to be unconscious for the entire drive. Pam sighed and put in her ear-buds, scrolling through her mP3 player for soothing music. She was about to click on Norah Jones when she heard Jim and Karen’s voices in the seats behind her.
“I just don’t see what the problem is,” Karen said in a hushed, yet fierce voice.
“Not now.”
“But—“
“I told you, I’ll think about it. For now, let’s just enjoy the musical stylings of General Scott, ukulele extraordinaire.”
Pam could hear Karen give a small laugh as Michael began to butcher the song “Kokomo.” Though she didn’t mean to eavesdrop, their conversation had been intriguing enough that Pam kept the volume on her mp3 player low over the course of the drive, just in case.
xxx
Two hours, fourteen songs and three near-accidents later, the bus pulled up to the front of Fort Mifflin. Everyone exited the bus, stretching and yawning as they took in their surroundings. The fort seemed to be the only thing around for miles, standing alone amongst tumbleweeds and sparse trees. No sooner had they filed off the bus than a large and bulky figure wearing a uniform adorned with various medals marched promptly out to the group.
“Are you Dunder-Mifflin?” the man asked to no one in particular. Michael perked up and ditched his effort at trying to get Ryan to do push-ups.
“Sir, yes sir! We are Dunder-Mifflin and we are pumped and ready for whatever you guys want to throw at us! Right gang?”
The “gang” remained in silence, arms folded as they waited for it all to begin.
“I am Sergeant Miller and I will be conducting your basic training this weekend. Now, let me go over a few rules—“ he began in a calm and congenial voice.
“Oh, come on,” Michael interjected, clearly exasperated. “Why are you being…nice? We came here for boot camp, let’s see some boot camp.”
Jim gave a look to the camera, eyebrows raised in mock surprise as Michael continued to badger the sergeant.
Michael doesn’t really do well with authority. I mean, his boss now…well, he somehow managed to date. So… Jim smirked and shrugged to the camera. We’ll see how this goes.
Sergeant Miller looked questioningly at Michael. “Oh, you want boot camp?”
“Well, that is the whole reason we’re here. Get these guys in shape. Look at ‘em, wouldn’t want these guys out on the battlefield anytime soon.”
The Marines have a saying: Semper Fi. It is Greek for “No mercy.” Michael looked gravely into the camera. Unfortunately, I will have to enforce that saying this weekend. I wish I didn’t, but as the Greeks also say: Caveat Emtor. Buyer beware.
“Except for me, right Michael?” Dwight interrupted, his face looking desperately for reassurance.
“Who are you?” the sergeant asked with annoyance.
“Colonel Schrute, third in command. You should know that not only do I have extensive military training but also—“ Dwight was cut off by the sound of Sergeant Miller blaring his whistle in Dwight’s face.
“I don’t like your attitude, private! You will not speak to me unless I speak to you first. Is that clear?” The sergeant was two inches from Dwight’s face, yelling loudly and protruding spit with each enunciated syllable. Dwight stared in shock before composing himself and giving a hard salute.
“Yes sir!”
“Alright then! Since your general,” Sergeant Miller glanced over at Michael, who had plastered a smile on his face after the sergeant’s outburst. “Believes that I’m too soft on you guys, we’re going to kick this up a notch. Just like Emeril.” The sergeant strolled up to Michael and leered over him till finally yelling out “BAM!” making Michael retract in fear.
I enjoy the Food Network, Sergeant Miller said to the camera matter-of-factly.
“Now I want you all to drop and give me fifty! Let’s go!” And with another blow of his whistle, every one grudgingly got down on the ground. All except a frightened looking Kelly.
“Did you not hear me, private? I said let’s go!” Sergeant Miller.
“Oh, see I totally would, but I just do not have that upper body strength. Not like Demi Moore in ‘G.I. Jane.’ Did you see that movie? I cannot believe she shaved her head! Seriously, I don’t think I could ever do that. You look good bald though!”
Rolling his eyes, he blew his whistle once again. “That’s enough! Fifty push-ups! Let’s go!”
Holding back tears, Kelly lowered herself on to the ground and began her push-ups.
Kelly blinked furiously at the camera, a look of pain mixed with anger knit tightly on her face.
Ashton would never talk to Demi that way. Ever.
Karen was positioned next to Jim who had Pam on the other side of him. She was determined to show she could hold her own against even an athletic guy like Jim. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to show a bit of an edge over certain other employees. But as she looked to her right, she could see Pam’s body bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm, counting off quietly as she did each push-up.
“Hangin’ in there, Beesly?” Jim asked, his breathing heavy and eyes squinting in the bright sun.
Pam was startled to hear him address her, and didn’t respond for a moment. Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through her or maybe the endorphins from the workout, but she found some bravery in her to retort back.
“Of course, just waiting for you to catch up with me.”
Jim looked at her with a grin. “Oh really?”
She nodded and let out a sharp breath of air as she strained to lower herself to the ground.
“You’re getting slow in your old age, Halpert.”
“Just wait till we get to the rock climb, then we’ll see how slow I am.”
Pam giggled but could see Karen past Jim, staring at the two of them as they bantered. She quickly looked away when Pam caught her and increased the speed and force of her push-ups.
Jim reached his fifty before anyone else, collapsing on the ground and rolling over onto his back. Pam was not too far behind him, she too lying on her back next to him struggling to catch her breath.
“I win,” Jim said, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face.
“Jerk,” replied Pam, who mentally assured herself that her increased heart rate was from the strenuous exercise.
We’ve always been really competitive. Pam looked rapidly between the producer and the camera.
What? We have.
Author's Chapter Notes:
So there might be what some could consider “offensive” material in this one. But it’s just me writing Michael, and it is written based on stereotypes that are completely untrue and that I don’t believe in.
Chapter End Notes:
Next up: The troops settle in for their first night on base. Tensions mount, courage is mustered, and Angela complains about something. Stay tuned!
Now drop and give me 50 reviews! Just kidding...but reviews would be nice :)
