After a full day of pushups, a tour of the base, more pushups, and a “trust fall” that ended with Kevin sustaining a minor back injury, it was finally time for the first break the group was given since arriving: dinner.  The meal was held in the standard cafeteria where those others stationed ate.  Each employee slid their trays across the metal railing, inspecting their limited options.  Stanley gave a low grumble as what appeared to be some sort of casserole was plopped onto his plate by a severe looking woman in a white apron and hair net.  Angela was next in line and was about to receive the same meal before she interjected sharply.

“Excuse me, what exactly is this?”

“Casserole,” the woman replied with disdain.

“What kind of casserole?  I’m a vegetarian and I refuse to—“

“I’m sorry, you must be mistaking me for your momma, who might actually care.  Eat it or shut it, blondie.”  The woman was now narrowing her eyes at Angela, her spatula raised in the air like some sort of weapon.

Angela pursed her lips together and turned to walk away before Dwight suddenly appeared and placed a hand gently on her forearm.

“Good evening, Angela.  Won’t you be helping yourself to dinner?”

“No, Dwight.  I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she sneered, eyeing the cafeteria lady out of the corner of her eye.

Dwight looked around before speaking in a low voice.  “Monkey, you need your strength.  I will not watch you be shown up by Phyllis.  We are the few, the proud…the not-so-many.  Please,” his eyes bore into her, silently pleading for her to acquiesce.  Angela remained expressionless, but after a few moments slowly turned back to the woman behind the counter who looked obnoxiously smug as she heaped a pile of the casserole onto her plate.

“Thank you,” Angela replied through her teeth and left the station in a huff, not bothering to look back at a pleased Dwight.  The woman cleared her throat, her eyes silently questioning where his tray and plate were.

Dwight scoffed.  “I don’t need it, thank you very much.”

That was not food.  That was gruel.  And I will not be sustained on gruel.  I planned ahead and brought the proper nutrients to keep myself nourished.  Vitamins, fruits, vegetables…deer jerky.  And prune juice.  Dwight shot a satisfied look at the camera.  To stay regular.

Jim scanned the dining hall, looking for the most strategic seating.  He could see Pam had secured herself in a corner chatting with Phyllis, smiling and laughing with a sincerity that had lately been absent.  The kick in his heart sent a smile to his lips before the sudden sense of a camera lurking not too far from him caused him to shake himself out of his reverie and back to the task of looking for a seat.  He spotted Karen sitting with Ryan and Kelly, and she broadened into a smile and gestured to the seat she had saved for him. He was moving toward her before he heard his name being shouted across the dining hall.

“Jim! Yo, Jimbo!  Number 2!  Official executive officers meeting stat!”  Jim groaned seeing Michael waving him over frantically to a small table in the very far corner of the room.   He gave an apologetic look to Karen and grudgingly made his way over to Michael’s table where Dwight was already plotting points on a crudely drawn map with a protractor.

“Alright, so here’s our plan of attack,” Michael leaned into the table, splaying out his hands in front of him for added effect.  “Now pay attention, this gets tricky.  We take the toilet paper,” he paused to hold the imaginary roll of toilet paper in his hand.  “And then throw it over the girls’ cabin,” he gave a small giggle as he mimed tossing the roll in a perfect arc.

“Brilliant,” Dwight murmured in awe.

“I’m sorry…what?” Jim furrowed his eyebrows, looking between Michael and Dwight in hopes of there existing a logical explanation for a plan involving toilet paper and the girls’ cabin.

“We’re going TPing,” Michael snickered, a snort escaping from his nose in his delight.

“Jim, we’ll be needing someone of your stature for those hard to reach places—“

“That’s what she said!” Michael proclaimed a little too loudly, causing everyone in the dining hall to turn around in annoyance.  Jim saw Pam give a teasing eye-roll at him, causing him to break out into a smile and look quickly back down at his food before she could see the red lightly tinting his cheeks.  Michael cleared his throat and spoke in a lower voice, something Jim didn’t realize he was capable of.

“So midnight.  Tonight.  Let’s synchronize our watches,” Michael said, squinting at his “Folex” and fiddling with the small winder.

TPing is great for male bonding.  You get to formulate a plan, execute that plan together, take out lots of aggression…at first I thought of just playing Tag but come on, what are we, kids?

A sharp whistle overhead indicated that dinner was over, and everyone ushered themselves outside toward the respective men’s and women’s cabins.  Jim was walking with Karen when he felt Pam brush up next to him.

“What was the secret meeting all about?”

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.  It’s classified,” Jim said with mock seriousness.

“You’re no fun,” Pam grinned before speeding ahead to catch up with Kelly.

Jim’s eyes trailed after her before realizing that a pair of eyes was boring into him at his side.  He turned to look at Karen, who had her eyebrows raised in suspicion.  Jim mustered a smile and slipped an arm around her waist, walking in that fashion till they parted for their cabins.

I’ve never really been that competitive.  But…Karen trailed off, looking past the camera crew, brows slightly furrowed in concentration.  There’s a first time for everything.