There was a ticking noise coming from under the desk.

            At first, he had been convinced that this was just one of Halpert’s stupid pranks. It was probably just an alarm clock. He had spent all morning mentally preparing himself for the alarm to go off, willing himself not to show any signs of surprise when the moment arrived. But then lunch had come and gone, and nothing had happened.

            This was going to require careful investigation.

            Strange. It seemed like Halpert heard the noise too. Every once in awhile, Jim glanced around him, even opening the drawers of his desk to see if he could find the source of the noise. And Pam seemed to be listening carefully, her head tilted in their direction.

      Perhaps this wasn’t a prank after all.

       And that was when it occurred to him: terrorist attack.

      He would have to proceed carefully in order to avoid throwing the entire office into panic mode. He glanced at Angela, who ignored him. Good woman. He knew that, should the need arise, she would be able to guide their coworkers to safety.

    But now—now it was time to be a hero. He would finally have a chance to put all of his training to work.

      He tried to act nonchalant as he nudged the pencil off his desk.

       “Oops,” he said, making eye contact with Jim. “Dropped something.”

     He dropped to his knees and made himself as small as possible, examining every surface under his desk. The ticking was definitely nearby. He ran his hands slowly under the drawers. Nothing.

    Then he remembered—Jim was number two now. Anyone who was trying to take out the office would obviously go after Halpert. He smiled to himself and shifted his attention to Halpert’s desk.

      And there it was, taped under the bottom drawer. Definitely a bomb. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the wires attaching the timer to the dynamite. No doubt about it.

     Okay. Time to act. He took a deep breath and went into action, hitting his head in his hurry to escape from the death trap under the desks.

      “Everyone remain calm,” he said in a loud voice, rubbing the bump that had started to raise on the side of his head. “There is a bomb under Halpert’s desk. I repeat: There is a bomb. Please leave the office in an orderly fashion while I call in the bomb squad.”

      Only Angela sprang into action, calling out orders and moving quickly towards the front door. Meredith and Creed continued to stare at their computers, while Phyllis rolled her eyes at him. Jim and Pam were exchanging glances.

      “Did you not hear me? There. Is. A. Bomb. Get out of the office!”

      “A bomb?” Stanley asked. “At Dunder-Mifflin. Right.” And he went back to filling out his crossword puzzle as though no one’s life was in peril.

       “Fine,” he said, clenching his teeth. “I have risked my life for you ungrateful people one too many times. That’s it.”

      And he stalked out of the office.

    The next morning, he returned to work to find the office intact. Clearly, the bomb squad had been able to find and disarm the bomb. He felt a strong sense of satisfaction.

  Then, when he sat down at his desk, he saw it. Four candles wrapped in construction paper, tied with twine, attached to an alarm clock with duct tape.