"You're listening to WYDM; Scranton's only way to get through the day! DJ Dwight will be back tomorrow with another edition of ‘You Can't Stop the Beet!' serving up another plate of radical revolutionary topics for you to chew on from 10-2. But hey, don't touch that radio; up next is our very KK Kapoor with the ‘Pop Culture Parade': four hours of non-stop celebrity gossip, news, and up-to-the-minute reports of who's with who and who's that baby's daddy! And hey, don't forget, tomorrow morning, the WYDM family gets a little bigger with the introduction of Jim Halpert in the Morning! Wake up to Jim every morning, from 6-10, and start your day the right way! For now we've got Toby with the traffic. Toby, how are things looking out there?"

Andy clicked the mute button on his mic and threw off his headphones, glaring through the plexi-glass window.

"Pamela..." he said, dragging out the syllables in her name as he sauntered over to her booth. "You were late on your cue again! I don't understand, chickadee, how many times do we have to have dead air before you stop doodling and actually pay attention to your job!"

"Look, Andy, I'm sorry, I just got distracted-"

"Uhh, one moment," Andy held up an imaginary phone, his face scrunched up in contempt. "Oh, Pam, clue-phone, it's for you: You're always distracted! Just try not to piss off Mr. Big-Shot-New-Guy tomorrow morning, okay? He's going to have a hard enough time just getting people to call in; he doesn't need you screwing up timing for commercials."

"Andy," Pam said calmly. "You wouldn't be getting...angry again, would you?"

Andy's eyes widened. "What? Pssh, no, of course not..."

"Because Michael's in a pretty bad mood already, what with listener count being down, sponsors not coming through...he wouldn't like the thought of his producer having another ‘episode.'"

She kept a smile to herself as she watched Andy struggle to keep composure.

"Your shift's over," he said coolly. "You can go."

That was the only nudge Pam needed as she quickly gathered her things and left the station, grateful to have the rest of the afternoon to herself to run errands, clean the apartment, and get some rest before the early day that awaited her tomorrow. It was her first time doing the early shift, and from what'd she heard from the other operators, mornings were the worst. WYDM got decent amount of listeners during the day and early evening, but the lines were dead through the morning, mostly due the array of mind-numbingly boring hosts that put people to sleep rather than get them going in the morning. Michael mentioned in the last station meeting that they were bringing in the "big guns from Philly", as he put it, to try and boost listener counts. Pam wanted to be optimistic, but between her bad-habit of drawing while on the air and the early hours, it would take a miracle for someone to hold her attention.

xxx

"Michael, what exactly are you angry about?"

"I just-I don't have a good feeling about this guy, Jan. I mean he's "big city" you know? He's going to come in her with his espressos and his Blackberry and be all ‘Ooo, look at me, I'm from Philadelphia.'"

Jan let out a hiss of frustration over the phone. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but I think he'll be a good addition to the station."

"Well, I don't understand what was wrong with my candidate!"

"Ryan Seacrest, Michael? That was ludicrous."

"He's very popular in California! I think we need a little West Coast flavor!"

"Look, it doesn't matter what you think Michael, the point is, we've hired Jim and that's that. He'll be stopping by this afternoon to get acquainted with the studio. And just please, please" she stressed. "Be. Professional."

The dial tone rang through Michael's ear as he rolled his eyes.

"Professional," he muttered. "I'm the definition of professional."

xxx

"My God, you're tall!" Michael exclaimed. "What are you, like, 7 feet?"

Jim gave a small laugh. "6'3" actually but thanks...I think."

"Alright, Gigantor, let's take you on a tour. Try not to step on anybody, would ya?" Michael clapped Jim on the back, leading him through the halls.

"Okay, so over here is where we do news. Nothing too interesting there, just a lot of political hoo-hah. Oh, and this is where Angela Martin works!" Michael strode up to the open booth door.

"Knock-knock! How's it going in here? Everything good?"

"I'm getting ready for a show," Angela responded tersely, not looking up from her paperwork.

"Oh, gotcha, don't want to interrupt. Just thought I should introduce the Jolly Green Giant here, Jim Halpert. He's our new morning guy."

Jim offered his hand and Angela, after giving Jim a condescending once-over, weakly shook it.

"Jim, perhaps you've heard of Angela's show? ‘I'm Not One to Judge, But...'"

"Oh yeah, I've caught it a couple times. That's some great...advice you give."

"Well, someone has to," she said, as if the Almighty himself had sent her to do it.

"Okay Jim, let's get out of here before the frostbite sets in," Michael muttered, fleeing from Angela's booth with great speed. "Oh, good! Stanley Hudson, our R&B brotha..."

"For the last time, Michael, I do jazz," Stanley grumbled while politely shaking Jim's hand.

"Yeah, yeah, you and Stevie Wonder are tight, right? Big surprise there. Okay, over this way!"

Jim tagged along behind Michael for the rest of the afternoon, surveying his new workplace with amusement and just a bit of fear. He took mental notes of everyone he came across to better acquaint himself, and to determine who to avoid at all costs.

Angela: Yikes. Kelly: Don't ask questions, just answer hers. Kevin: limit conversation topics to sports and food.

They were close on finishing the tour when suddenly Michael stopped with a groan.

"Oh God..."

"Michael!" Dwight exclaimed, charging up to him. "When is the new guy coming? As Assistant Station Manager..."

"Assistant to the Station Manager..."

"Same difference. Anyway, as-‘

"Hi," Jim cut him off. "Jim Halpert, the new guy."

Dwight took a small step back to survey him, proceeding then to circle him like a vulture.

"He looks weak."

"I wasn't aware there was heavy-lifting required for this job," Jim said with a smirk.

"He has attitude. Michael, we can't allow this for the morning show, he'll scare everyone off."

"Dwight, just-there's no one to scare off, okay? Maybe a little attitude is what we need to get people listening."

"But it's offensive-"

"Hello? That's what people like! Believe me, I know."

Jim looked around for someone, anyone to share the moment with but resigned to just smiling to himself.

As they walked away from a sulking Dwight and over to where he would be broadcasting, Jim's nervousness started to subside. It was a good station; smaller than the one in Philadelphia, but respectable. The people were certainly characters and would provide for some good entertainment. He was busy plotting how to switch Dwight's sci-fi sound effects tape with barnyard noises when they arrived at his booth.

"And here's where you'll be working! Probably not as roomy as the one back in Philly, but-"

"No, this is great," Jim interjected, taking a seat in his chair and giving it a spin. "Thanks, Michael, I really appreciate the opportunity."

Michael, obviously overwhelmed by his sincerity, cleared his throat and made a small bow of his head.

"Certainly. I think I misjudged you, good sir. You are quite groovy."

Jim frowned in confusion.

"Grooves. On a record. Just some DJ humor, you'll pick it up. See you later, big guy!"

Jim took in his new surroundings, marveling at how no matter how many times he'd been in one before, there was nothing better than the feel of a studio. He made his way over to the board operator's booth, noting its smallness in size when he noticed a stray piece of notebook paper left on the desk. He picked it up and saw a small cartoon of a man with a sash that read "Producer" being electrocuted from the station's tower. Jim laughed to himself, placed the paper back where he found it, and made one more mental note before beginning to prepare for tomorrow's show.

Board operator: A sense of humor