The reception desk. He'd once been forced to spend a week languishing behind it, having his dignity slowly sucked away at an even faster rate than normal. He hated that they had all seen him like that. They were about to have their patronizing memories erased by a show of force from the only guy in the room who was headed anywhere. He looked over at the receptionist. It's not that she wasn't pretty. She was. In fact, given that Karen had foolishly preempted his advances, he would even consider Pam for the position of his Scranton booty call. No relationship, and that was firm. She would probably want one, given that his power and stature represented a way out for her, but it just wasn't going to happen. She could, however, keep his hotel bed warm on the occasional days he rolled into Scranton to take care of business...

He remembered Halpert. That would make things complicated. Wallace, for one stupid reason or another, appeared to have a real soft spot for the guy. Oh well... it wasn't worth the drama. Pretty or not, she may as well dig her grave behind that reception desk and crawl into it. Instead, Ryan would try calling some of the girls he knew from high school. Some of them were bound to still be around Scranton. Office romances were overrated anyway. Pam was chirping away on the phone, so Ryan coolly sided up to the desk and interrupted her.

"Pam. Tell Michael I'm here."

Pam glanced up at him and continued her conversation. She was apparently giving a client or a supplier directions to the building, or some other meaningless bullshit. Was everyone in this stupid joint going to need reminding?

"Pam!"

This time she looked up for real, but before Ryan could finish his thought, he felt it. Two giant hands... one on his throat, the other around the back of his neck. He was jolted backwards toward the door, dropping his new leather briefcase and grabbing his attacker's hand to try to keep his windpipe opened.

"Strike Three, boy! You've got a whole hell of a lot of nerve showing your face in this state again."

Stanley dragged him to the door and threw him out into the hallway by his neck. Before Ryan could regain his bearings, Stanley was on him, pinning him up against the wall with his belly. Ryan tried to curl up and defend himself, but Stanley was too close. Their noses even touched a few times as Stanley tore into him with a spittle laced tirade.

"Boy, how many times do I have to warn you about keeping your perverted ass out of my daughter's business. How many times?"

"I swear... I didn't do anything. I swear!"

"Don't lie to me you dirty little pervert. If I EVER get wind of you sniffing around anywhere near that child, I swear to you your next warning will be from Jesus himself because boy, that's where I'm sending you. Do you understand me?"

Ryan could feel Stanley's spit spray his face and eyelids. He deserved better than this, dammit. Stanley would have to be punished. But for now, he just wanted to survive the ass-chewing.

"Stanley I didn't..." He had always been a bit intimidated by black guys. Perhaps that explained why his attempt at a powerfully shouted response came out sounding like a pathetic whimper.

"THE HELL YOU DIDN'T. Kelly told me everything. And let me tell you this you little worm... you shout out the name of a man's FIFTEEN year old daughter during sex... boy you just be glad you're still breathing."

This was so not cool. What kind of crap had Kelly been spreading about him? Ryan tried again to belt out a denial but Stanley silenced him with an emphatic finality. This time Ryan got sprayed a bit in his eyes.

"Just shut your damn mouth." Stanley pushed him into the wall roughly one last time, and turned and headed back into the office, muttering angrily to himself as he went. Ryan heard a dampened thud through the door, which he would soon find out was made by his new briefcase as Stanley stepped on it. This time it took Ryan more than a minute to compose himself. He straightened his shirt and tie, and ran his trembling fingers through his hair to try to straighten it out. Thank God he had stopped for gas on the way over, and used the bathroom at the station, or he might have pissed himself.

A lesser man would have given in to his primal desire for revenge, but he was smarter than that. A conflict with Stanley would result in some very ugly accusations being thrown, and Ryan was too smart to risk tarnishing his brightly burning career prospects in a shit-hurling contest with a man on his way to retirement: a man with nothing to lose. Stanley had no idea how lucky he was to be saved, unknowingly, by the superior intelligence of the man he had just unjustly attacked. He'd get a wide berth. Karen too. And he'd have to be careful about butting heads with Jim. Everyone else was about to eat some serious shit. Starting with the Idiot-in-Chief himself.

This time he didn't bother with Pam. He pushed past reception, threw Michael's door open, and barged noisily in. He slammed the door behind him to make sure no cameraman followed him in.

Michael looked up at him warmly. He hated everything about this man. The pathetic attempts at humor, the overpowering need to feel loved. Most of all, he hated how he owed his very existence at this company to the continued patience of this simple little man. This unspoken debt would keep Michael from offering up the respect that Ryan was now due. Michael was a living, breathing link to the old Ryan: to everything he was out to leave behind. To sever this painful reminder, Michael had to be dealt with mercilessly and quickly.

"Ryan! Back already? I knew you'd miss me, but yeeeeow." Michael instinctively turned and gave the camera a knowing smile, but stopped when he realized he was looking at an empty wall. Bullshit time was over.

"Cut it Michael, and just try to sit there and listen for a change." Michael seemed a little stunned and gestured to the one visitor chair in his office that wasn't stacked with boxes and other junk. Apparently his office hadn't quite recovered from the recent painting and unpainting. Ryan chose to remain on his feet for his initial volley.

"Let's be completely clear about one thing right up front. Starting NOW, you have to forget every notion you have about our relationship and get used to the way things are from now on. I'm in charge now and will be treated as such. No more temp references. No more stupid nicknames. No more..."

Ryan was rudely interrupted as the door swung open. He turned to chew out... FUCK! Not her again. She dismissively ignored him and went right to Michael.

"Hey, Michael, I need you signature on this purchase order."

Michael grabbed the invoice from Karen and signed it, and as he gave it a precursory glance, he addressed her with a theatrical, formal flourish.

"Aah -- A new client, very good my lady."

Ryan knew perfectly well she could have gotten Michael's signature any time. What a bitch.

"Easiest sale I ever made. I can't believe we didn't hook these guys sooner. Who was on that account anyway?"

She knew damn well who was on it.

Karen paused on her way out the door. She glanced briefly at Ryan and then picked up Michael's guest chair and silently left the room with it, leaving him no option to sit. For the first time since that homeless woman had asked him for spare change last week, Ryan wanted to hit a woman. It was a damn good thing he didn't, because unbeknownst to him, another man had entered the room just as Karen had left. A man whose sense of chivalry would have prompted swift, heroic, undeniably painful-for-Ryan action at the slightest hint of a woman coming under the threat of violence. Ryan felt warm breath hitting the back of his neck.

DAMMIT! Was this a fucking tag team? The timing of these maddening disruptions seemed a little too good. He had no idea how good. No idea. After having her heart broken by Jim, Karen, despite being emotionally drained and mentally pre-occupied with her ongoing job search, had found a way to extract a brutal, painful revenge on her ex and his new lover. She had taken from them one of the main pillars of their bond. She had taken their favorite target made him bulletproof. She had formed an alliance with Dwight. And it wasn't only to spite Jim. After being with the wishy-washy Jim for so long, she respected the fact that you always knew exactly where you stood with Dwight. He had always been kind to her, and now she had no reason to let him come under attack. Not only was he now a hard target, he kept Jim and Pam off balance with a potent new array of offensive moves. With Karen's help, Dwight had transformed from Jim and Pam's punching bag into their tormentor.

It had started on Monday, when Jim and Pam had attempted their old "pretendinitis" routine on Dwight. A secret IM from Karen, and he was wise to the game immediately, and retaliated by pressing Jim's car keys into a potato and launching it into the next zip code. Jim and Pam had found them just before they ran out of daylight. Tuesday's attempt to convince Dwight to shave his pubic hair failed equally spectacularly. Jim and Pam had been on guard for possible retaliation, but Dwight had still managed to saw 90% of the way through the backrest on Jim's chair, causing a spectacular spill the first time he leaned back. To make matters worse, Dwight had then abandoned the tit-for-tat pranking and gone on the offensive, and at 11AM Wednesday morning, Jim received a singing dildo-gram from a local adult novelty store, delivered right to his desk.

Ryan knew Dwight might harbor him some resentment. He was the top salesman, after all, and he, like Karen, had been bypassed by Ryan's promotion. He would have to be dealt with, of course, but in isolation. One on one, Ryan could handle him. Meanwhile, he had no idea that an already resentful Dwight had also absorbed a lot of the ill will toward him that had flowed his way from Kelly via Karen. Had he bothered to turn around and look into the icy stare that was boring a hole in the back of his neck, he might have been clued in.

"Hello temp."