“McDade Park is one of Scranton’s top leisure destinations. Reclaimed in the 1970’s from coal mining terrain, it spreads across 200 acres that include an arboretum, sports fields, picnic areas, and playgrounds,” Dwight finished reading from the brochure he had found in Michael’s orange “HOT HOT HOT!” binder.

Michael leapt up at the description, “Perfect! Make it so, uh, Spock.”

“Data,” Dwight corrected as he flipped the binder closed.

Michael nodded, “That’s why I put this folder together, Dwight. To collect data about the world we live in. To have at my fingertips, places where Dunder Mifflin employees can frolic and…”

“Learn the 42 species of trees indigenous to Lackawanna County,” Dwight earnestly finished.

“Yes. No! Dwight,” Michael rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. Who wants to know the trees that are indidge… indig.. indigimus to…. No one cares!” Dwight’s crestfallen face gave Michael pause. He decided to give the poor misguided kid a bone, “So go tell the troops! We’re going on a picnic! To celebrate Bill…” Michael’s voice smoothly flowed into a riff of Bill Cosby, “the ‘Coz’, Bill Cosby. Hi, I’m Bill Cosby and my birthday is tomorrow!”

Dwight pumped his fist in the air, “Yes! Awesome!” He broke down laughing when Michael started pantomiming eating jell-o pudding pops.  

Everyone arrived at the park roughly on time. Dwight was carrying a sign-in sheet and was noting who was early and who was late. He promised everyone that showing up late would affect their over-all score.

Stanley lifted his heavy lids and said to no one in particular, “Of course….”

Angela stood at Dwight’s left hand, looking breathlessly up at Dwight. She loved it when he was in charge She held his stopwatch clamped between her hands near her heart.

Creed stumbled out of the back of a smoke-filled van. Angela couldn’t quite make out the words, but she was almost positive that the unwashed hippie in the front seat had yelled out “Thanks for the handcuffs, dude!”

“Disgusting,” she whispered as she leaned closer to Dwight. He ignored her. He had more important things to do. 

Toby was chatting aimlessly with Karen. Over the last few months, the two quiet staff members had found themselves thrown together during office parties, office events, office spectaculars… They had developed a pretty good groove. They never mentioned Jim, Pam, or Jim and Pam. For two people that Toby and Karen watched with eagle-like attention, it was funny how they had absolutely nothing to say about them. 

Andy and Kelly were talking to Oscar. Andy could not understand this Kelly chick. One guy dumps her and she turns into Miss Dumpy Broad. He’d pestered her several times that wearing old lady clothes were not going to get ‘a well-oiled steak in your pot, if you know what I mean’, but she had obviously not taken his advice to heart. Right this minute she was wearing the height of frump-ware. Oscar was talking when Andy noticed a buxom beauty stop to tie her running shoes. Without a thought, he wandered off to chat the lady up. 

Kelly watched him walk away. “Men are all the same,” she said angrily. Oscar nodded as he watched a shirtless African-American jog by, “Yeah.”

“Listen up, listen up, people. Michael wants to speak!” Dwight stood on top of a picnic table to get everyone’s attention. 

Michael climbed up on the picnic table and, with showmanship flair, opened the ceremonies, “Hello, hello, my fellow Dunder Mifflin employees!” He ignored the fact that only Dwight and Phyllis clapped. Moving right along, Michael began his Bill Cosby impersonation, “I’m Bill Cosby and my birthday is today.” 

Jim raised his hand, “I thought today was Richard Simmons’ birthday.” 

Michael paused, confused. “It is not,” he said in his normal voice. 

“Yes, it is. I brought a card for everyone to sign,” Jim lifted a birthday card that Pam had drawn of Richard Simmons.  

Pam nodded, “Oh, I’m glad someone else brought a card. I brought a birthday card for everyone to sign for Kristi Yamaguchi. It’s her birthday, too, and I’m such a huge fan.” 

“Okay, you are seriously gay if you are sending Richard Simmons a birthday card,” Michael looked around for confirmation of this theory. Half the people were sniggering. 

“I don’t like Richard Simmons, Michael. Are you saying…” Oscar paused. He had just remembered he'd told Angela that he had decided to go hetero. He looked over to see she was staring at him balefully. Dismissively, she turned away with her nose in the air. He sighed. 

Dwight piped in, “There are many famous birthdays on July 12th. Born on this day: Buckminster Fuller, Pablo Neruda, Henry David…” 

“Shut up, Dwight. The only person who matters today is Bill Cosby and me,” Michael swept his hands in the air. “Now as I was saying…” 

“Milton Berle!” Jim held up another birthday card. “Milton Berle also was born today. He and Richard Simmons…” 

“Oh, I love Milton Berle! He always dresses up like a lady,” Phyllis said. 

“I think you mean Bob Hope,” Jim said in his most serious, helpful voice. 

“Bob Hope! Bob Hope was a comedy genius,” Michael felt it necessary to educate the unenlightened, “He never dressed up as a woman!” 

Dwight smiled slightly. He had done a lot of research about Michael’s heroes, “Well, as a matter of fact, Michael, in several…” 

“Dwight’s right,” Pam said before Michael could tell Dwight to shut up. “Remember? Bob Hope dressed up as a girl in ‘Braveheart’.” Jim nodded furiously.  

Michael’s face turned, “Braveheart! Bob Hope wasn’t in Braveheart! Mel Gibson was in Braveheart! They don’t look anything alike!”

While Michael pouted over by the fishpond, Dwight stood on the picnic table issuing orders, “Okay, people. People. Stop milling around. Let’s form into orderly lines. I am going to pass out signs that you will wear around your necks. I will explain what the signs mean once everyone is wearing one.”

“Will we be paid for this?” Stanley asked. He hadn’t moved from sitting on a bench under a Lackawanna indigenous tree.

“Yes, you will be paid,” Dwight said contemptuously.  “Okay, ladies first. Pam Beesly. Pam? Okay… Next. Karen Filippelli….   

In the shadow of a giant pine tree, Meredith was fuming. She scowled as she looked down at the sign around her neck, “Girl7”. She chewed on the straw and thought evil thoughts. Dwight’s explanation of the numbers had not set well with her. 

“Listen up,” he had said. “Each of you has a sign around your neck.” Jim nodded in an exaggerated fashion. He loved it when Dwight stated the obvious; it always made Pam giggle.

“These signs tell you three things,” Dwight continued, ignoring Jim and Pam, “One: they say whether you are a boy or a girl…”

“There’s no Boy4,” Oscar pointed out. “Why can’t I be Boy4?”

“We’re saving Boy4 in case Ryan shows up,” Dwight explained as if it were totally obvious.

Oscar groaned, “Ryan’s not driving from New York for this, is he? How about I just be Boy4 until he shows up.”

Dwight’s mouth dropped open a little. He fought to maintain control against the mob, “Please take up all queries with the Party Comptroller after said picnic in the regulation fashion.”

In frustration, Oscar tore the sign off his neck.
Dwight was stunned, “Hey! No! You can’t do that. That’s Dunder Mifflin property.” He jumped off the table to pick up the sign Oscar had tossed to the ground.

“I’m leaving after registering a complaint with H.R.” Oscar headed red-faced in Toby’s direction. Toby sighed as he took a small notebook out of his pocket.

Dwight picked up the grass-smeared sign before muttering, “This will not look good on your performance review...”  

After Oscar left, Dwight climbed back on the table. Acting as if nothing had happened, he said, “People! You have a number on your sign. If you are a man,” Dwight pointed at himself to illustrate. Stanley snorted.  Oblivious, Dwight plowed on, “If you are a man, the number shows your ‘Bill Cosby Level’. Your BCL was decided upon many factors… Yes, Kevin.”

Kevin’s hand was waving in the air.“Toby has a zero,” Kevin pointed at Toby.

“Yes, Kevin, on the BCL, as defined by Michael, Toby is the Anti-Bill Cosby.”

Karen mouthed to Toby, “Lucky.”

He smiled slightly and waved at the rest of the crowd.

Dwight further elucidated the BCL ratings, “Stanley, as you can see is a One. He is the closest to Bill Cosby.” Stanley glowered.

“Shouldn’t Toby be a 10 then? Zero is right next to One,” Andy pointed out.

Dwight turned to see if Michael was still throwing pebbles into the pond before answering. He whispered to the group, “Good question. I asked Michael that very same question and his answer did not satisfy me.” Andy looked pleased at Dwight’s public acknowledgment.

Dwight spoke louder, “Now, as for the women, we faced a very difficult predicament. As you know, none of the women at Dunder Mifflin have a sense of humor…”  There were a lot of surprised looks at this statement. “Therefore, making an executive decision, as is his right as Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin, Michael has decided to measure the women on ‘Hotness Level’. Are there any questions?” Dwight looked at his notes to see if he had missed anything.

Jim raised his hand, “Can I have Oscar’s Girl6 sign?” 

“Zip it,” Dwight barked. 

No, the explanation had not set well with Meredith at all.
Here she was Girl7 on a scale of one to seven, and there was nothing left in her cup. If she’d remembered this morning when she was getting ready that they were going to be doing this lame event, she’d have gotten a Thirstbuster and diluted it. Now all she had was an empty iced whiskey latte. There was no way she was staying without alcohol. No way.

She examined the people walking by and found her mark. “Hey,” she waved to a woman who was strolling by and carrying a glass of lemonade.

The woman stopped, unsure if she recognized Meredith. “Hey,” she said tentatively.

“It is so great to see you again,” Meredith went up to her and gave her a slight hug.

The woman stepped back in surprise, “Oh…um…”   

The men were standing in a bunch on one side of the picnic table while the women milled around on the other side of the table. Michael was reading off the directions from Dwight's clipboard, “Now imagine this is the couch in the Huxtable home, right? You guys,” he pointed at the women, “are all the horny daughters of Cliff and Claire Huxtable and you need to get a husband. These guys,” he pointed at the men on the other side of the table, “are friends of Theo.”

“Which one is Cockroach?” Kelly asked. “I don’t want to grab Cockroach by mistake.”

Michael considered for a brief second, “Toby is Cockroach. Everyone stay away from Toby.”

Toby’s face dropped a little. Smiling, Michael lifted his "Boy1+++' sign as if he were kicking sand in Boy0's face.

“Hey, who’s the girl?” Kevin pointed at the new addition in the women’s group. Everyone turned to look at the nice-looking woman wearing sign Girl7.

“Uh…” she smiled awkwardly. “I’m a friend of Meredith’s? We took a writing class together….” Her voice trailed off.

Dwight cross-examined her, “Where's Meredith? Did you steal her sign?”

Girl7 shook her head no, “She’s in the…” She pointed towards the restrooms. “Upset stomach… cramps….”

Michael visibly shuddered, “Okay, all right. Fine. Girl7 do you understand the rules.”

Girl7 did. She knew exactly who she was going to catch: Boy2. The tall, lanky guy with the green eyes and nice smile. 

At the end of the race, Michael was visibly upset. First of all, no one had leaped up on the table to grab him even though he'd screamed the whole time, “I’m open, I’m open, ohhhh don’t grab me, ohhhh!” Secondly, all the couples were completely wrong.

Girl2 (Karen) had grabbed Cockroach almost instantly. Girl3 (Angela) was with Dwight even though Michael had specifically told Dwight that he wanted Angela and Kev, the accountants, to be together. Girl4 (Kelly) had snagged Kevin and they were arguing, loudly, because Kelly was saying she never touched him. Girl5 (Phyllis) was with Andy when everyone knew she was supposed to be with Creed. But the absolute worst. The absolute in the pits, driving Michael to complete despair, worst possible thing was that Girl1 (Pam) had ended up with Creed. Michael just could not believe it. Pam could have at least snagged Stanley! The dude had been sitting doing a crossword puzzle the whole time! He was totally open! Instead, here was poor Pam with crappy Creed.

Michael set up the whole picnic to get Jim and Pam together. He was supposed to be their matchmaker! He was going to be Jim's best man at the wedding! For crying out loud, he was the only person (except for his Mom, and Jan, and his dentist, and his garage mechanic, and the waitress at Denny’s, and the drive-thru girl at McDonald’s) who knew that Jim liked Pam and Pam liked Jim!

What was he going to do now, though? This horrible, upstart, dark sheep, so-called ‘friend of Meredith’s’ Girl7 had leapt onto Jim like he was the promised land! It just made Michael want to put down his head and cry. 

The whole day had been like that. Girl7 and Jim hop to victory in the three-legged race. Girl7 and Jim take the lead in the tickle contest. Girl7 and Jim win the Twister championship. Girl7 and Jim this, Girl7 and Jim that. It was a traverstsy. That’s what it was. 

By the end of the day, Michael had had enough. “Okay,” he looked around at his disheveled, tired employees. “Okay. I didn’t know jell-o would melt like that and if Dwight had made it right it wouldn’t have. Now, for the final contest. We’re going to have new partners. I’ll choose.”

“Why?” Angela said angrily.

“Do not question our fearless leader,” Andy quipped. Girl5 (Phyllis) was not his idea of the ideal partner.

“Thank you, Andy,” Michael said gratefully.

Dwight blurted out, “Any rules may be changed at any time by the Regional Manager. In this case, Michael!”

Michael ignored his sucking, up. He was already separating couples, “Okay, now Angela and the big man Kev, over here. Stanley and Kelly, put the two ethnics, er,…. Jim, Jim, Jimboree, where to put…. Oh, how about with Girl1? Pam? And Girl2 let’s put you with Andy, two Stamfords have to stick together. That leaves… Creed and Phyllis. Oh, and Girl7 and Dwight.”  Michael stepped back satisfied.

“What about Toby?” Karen asked.

Michael clapped Karen’s new teammate, Andy, on the back, “Exactly! What about Toby? What a loser.”

Karen’s eyes narrowed.  

“Okay, folks,” Michael clapped his hands together like an excited little kid. “In this next contest you and your teammate are going to have 30 packets of ketchup,” He held up a demonstration packet. “You are going to squeeze the packet on someone. Once that person gets squirted they are out of the game. Is that clear?”

“Why is this a team game?” Kelly asked

Stanley looked down at his new teammate, “Does it matter?” 

The game had not really gone the way Michael had wanted. First of all, only one person played by the rules. Dwight had used his honed paintball skills to systematically take everyone out. Meanwhile, everyone else had used their ketchup packets to squirt Michael, even after he had put up his hands and frantically screamed that he was out.  

With Jim’s help, Michael washed ketchup off his suit at the bathroom water fountain. After finishing complaining that no one knew how to play the simplest game on the planet, ‘Ketchup War’, Michael started ragging on Girl7.

“She has her nerve,” Michael said, “strolling in here, acting like she knows us, winning all the games. Making friends. Giggling. She’s not fooling me.”

Jim used a napkin to smear some of the ketchup around on Michael’s sleeve, “Oh, I think she’s a real sport. You know, taking over for Meredith when she had to go to the doctor’s.”

Michael looked worriedly at Jim. “Hey, you know I was thinking…”

Startled, Jim looked up from Michael’s drenched sleeve, “You were?”

“As your best friend, and your father figure, and employer, because of all these things I’m concerned about your love life,” Michael tried to look dignified as tomato paste dripped to the ground.

“Hey, no…” Jim started.

Michael put a reassuring hand on Jim’s shoulder. Some glops of ketchup fell on Jim’s shirt and he sighed. “Let it out Jimbo,” Michael commanded. “Let the pain out. I know it’s been hard.” Michael tried to maintain the fatherly image as he said, “That’s what she said,” in a slightly pompous voice. Once he had gotten the nod from Jim showing that he’d gotten the joke, Michael continued, “It’s been, what, nine, ten months since you broke up with Karen?”

“Three,” Jim said calmly.

“Wow! Are you sure?” Startled, Michael let go of Jim’s shoulder. “Wow, it feels like a lot longer. But then it always does when you’re not getting any. Am I right? Not that I’m not getting any. I’m getting loads. I’m...”

Jim interrupted him by pointing towards Dwight leading the rest of the staff in calisthenics, “Hey, the picnic looks like it’s winding down…”

“What I’m trying to say, Jim,” Michael got a faraway look in his eye, “I know what it’s like. You’re horny. She’s available. She’s fun. She’s nice. You have a boner. You think ‘why not?’”

“Wow,” was all Jim said.

“I’m telling you, Girl7 is not worth it. Now, Girl9…” Michael wandered off topic, “Did you see that movie? Spike Lee joint?”

Jim looked immensely relieved, “Wait? Girl7? You think that Girl7 and I…”

Michael returned to his fatherly pose, “She’s not worth it, Jim. Stay true to your dreams.” His voice changed to Bill Cosby’s, “Stay true. To your dreams. Theo.”

Jim smiled and looked over at Pam who was energetically doing jumping jacks while laughing. “Well, ya know, Michael…” Jim knew he shouldn’t do it, but at the same time.... “Girl7’s kinda hot. And I’m just a hot-blooded American male…”

Michael stormed off leaving Jim to appreciate Pam’s callisthenic abilities in the quiet awe that they deserved. 

Once Michael returned, Dwight handed over the Clipboard of Power. Michael grabbed it and looked at the rest of the activities for the day. There were none. Furious, he pushed the clipboard back at Dwight and said. “Okay last activity for the day. The highest scoring person gets a spanking!”

“What?” Angela, Pam, and Dwight called out.

A slight smile crossed Phyllis' face; she was trying to rack up points in her head. Creed looked worried, several times during the day he had changed the scores on Dwight's clipboard.

Toby cleared his throat, “Michael, I really don’t think…”

Michael snapped back, “I know you don’t, Cockroach, but do you really need to tell us?” Michael turned back to the rest of his audience, “Okay, I looked on the sheet and Girl7 won!”

Girl7 looked horrified.

Dwight looked at the clipboard in consternation. He’d made sure Angela had won by giving her bonus points for “grace” and “style”.

As Michael rolled up his sleeve, Girl7 realized he was serious and she began to run. Michael went chasing after her. Around and around the picnic tables they circled. 

Jim came up to Pam and, watching Michael chasing Girl7, said “What’s going on?”

Pam shook her head sadly, “Michael’s going to give her a spanking. I think it’s like a birthday spanking for Bill Cosby.”

“Ohhhhh,” guiltily, Jim looked at Pam’s upset face. “I think this might be my fault.”

Pam looked away from the racing figures. She missed seeing Michael trip over a bench to the delight of the rest of the crowd. Pam raised an eyebrow at Jim.

“Okay, he was giving me advice on my love life…” he watched a flicker of interest cross her face. “So, uh, I said that Girl7 was kinda hot…”  

Pam pushed Jim so that he almost fell on Girl7 as she came around the picnic tables again.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jim grabbed the gasping woman and pulled her around so that he now stood between her and Michael. Pam quickly stepped forward to flank her. 

Michael skidded to a stop. He was perspiring heavily which made the tomato-reek coming off him even more noticeable. He gasped as he pointed at Girl7 and tried to catch his breath enough to talk. 

“Okay, folks. I’ve got a little announcement,” Jim watched Michael out of the corner of his eye. “Little announcement. Um… I’ve decided to ask Pam out on a date. I hope you’re all cool with that?”    

Later that evening in Jim’s apartment, he was having ketchup sponged off him. Pam was giggling madly as she imitated him, “I’ve decided to ask Pam out on a date!”

Jim pulled the sponge out of her hand and started sponging her face. She fought back and water started sloshing out of their bathtub.

“Stop! Stop!” she begged.

He instantly dropped the sponge.

She started giggling again, “So when are you going to tell them we’re married?”

He kissed his wife’s nose, “Oh, I hear Bob Hope’s birthday is in May.”

Pam kissed him back, “Luckily, I’ve already got a birthday card for him… Bob Hope wearing a dress standing next to Mel Gibson!”