Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
The first guy to take the stage is a Vance Refrigeration employee, Gino something or other. He looks smarmy and arrogant. Bidding stops at $18, won by a middle aged Italian lady near the front. Probably his mother.
Michael is getting antsy. He keeps trying to get up, but Jan holds him back. When it is finally his turn, he sprints up and hands the auctioneer (who, as it happens, is a real auctioneer) a piece of paper.
"I made some changes to my profile," he says. The auctioneer reads it over and looks strangely at Michael.
~
Michael: "It's just like a resume. Keep it simple, and embellish a little, if need be."
~
"Okay, up next we have Michael Scott, 40... ish?, brown hair, can bench press 160 pounds, runs 10 miles a day..."
Jim and Pam exchange a look and stifle a laugh between them.
"... owns a Sebring, makes a great spaghetti bolognese, earns $100,000 a year..."
Jan glares up at Michael sternly.
"... owns a copy of the... ahem... kama sutra, and is well versed in the art of... origami?"
~
Michael: "Women love men that are crafty like that."
~
"Okay, we'll start the bidding at ten dollars. Who will give me ten? Ten dollars. Right there to the lady in the front."
Jan nods weakly and takes a sip of her drink.
"Who will give me fifteen? Fifteen dollars for this fine specimen?"
Jim does a spit take as he's drinking his beer. "Fine specimen?" he whispers to Pam, who replies, "Phyllis said he was a horse auctioneer." They both try not to snort as they start laughing.
"Fifteen to the redhead in the middle."
Meredith holds up her drink and makes a "wooot!" sound.
"How about twenty? Who's got twenty? Twenty dollars here for Michael Scott. Who will give me twenty?"
He's stuck at twenty for several uncomfortable minutes before Jan bids again.
"Okay, twenty-three? Who will give me twenty-three? Twenty-three dollars for this strapping fellow?"
Jim turns to Pam with an evil look in his eye. "Pam," he whispers, "you have to bid on Michael."
"What? Like hell!"
"No, listen... if he doesn't get more bids, who knows what kind of scene he'll make? Plus, you know Jan is going to get him anyway." He thinks for a second. "Unless she's into threesomes..."
Pam looks at him, horrified.
"Just do it," he says. "Trust me."
She slowly raises her hand and says, "Twenty-five." She narrows her eyes and mutters to Jim, "So help me God, if I win him..."
"Look at it this way," he says, "you and Michael and me and Meredith can double date."
Meanwhile, the auctioneer is prompting for a thirty dollar bid. No one obliges for several long, agonizing moments before he drops the bid to twenty-seven, and Jan raises her hand. Michael forces a smile.
"Do it again," Jim says to Pam.
"No!"
"Come on, Pam, it's not like you're saving your money for me." He reaches over and raises Pam's hand as he squeaks in a terrible girly voice, "Thirty!"
All eyes on Pam again, and she hisses, "I will kill you, Jim Halpert." He smiles and kisses her hand, but she pulls it away and crosses her arms to pout.
The auctioneer then asks for thirty-two dollars. Meredith, who by this point is pretty hammered, woots out the next bid. Michael looks momentarily terrified before Jan, who is also pretty drunk, raises the big to thirty-five.
There were no more bids after that, so the auctioneer declares Michael sold to Jan Levinson for thirty-five dollars (check to be made out to the Lackawanna County Humane Society).
~
Michael: "No, it's good. I mean, it would have been weird if someone's grandma had won me. Or Meredith. Yuck. That would just... make me... vomit. Plus Jan said that if someone else won me she would have to come along on the date, so it all worked out. I guess." He sighs wistfully.
~
"Hey, look..." Jim nods over to where Meredith is sitting. She has passed out on the table, her face in a plate of nachos. "Looks like I had nothing to worry about after all."
Pam laughs. "Yeah, but there could be someone else equally as creepy. Like Marjorie." She glances over to where the part-time employee was sitting. "I bet you she has some dark secrets, like a cage in her basement or something like that."
He snickers. "Yeah, right. Probably the most threatening thing about her is that she has like eighty cats."
"Well, maybe that's what the cage is for, then."
Two guys from Hector-Freemont Management Associates are next, and they earn bids of $120 and $88, respectively. Michael looks affronted, and tells Jan he needs "some air."
Dwight is number seven, and he goes up to the front as he straightens his tie and clears his throat.
The shadowy woman from the parking lot, still wearing the big sunglasses, makes her way to an empty seat closer to the front, waiting to make her move.
~
Dwight: "I expect to command a respectable price. I wrote up my profile outlining my outstanding characteristics and martial arts training. Where will I take my date? Well, first, I would probably take her to my beet farm, and show her the process of growing a beet from start to finish. It sounds romantic, but actually, well, let's just say I am not in the market for romance at this time." He half-smiles somewhat creepily.
~
