A couple of minutes earlier, he and Kevin had come into Michael Scott's office asking for help. It was a last resort after failing to solve their problem on their own, and with Toby not back yet from a visit to corporate there was no one else to turn to.

Kevin stood beside Oscar and nodded emphatically. "Very serious. I can't work having to look at that thing. Very. Serious."

Michael sat behind his desk unmoved by their concerns. "I'm surprised, Kevin. You of all people should be tolerant of having to look at something you don't want to all day. Do you think she wants to see your belly? Or the rest of you? And Oscar, I thought your kind were supposed to be sensitive."

Kevin frowned. "Hey."

"My kind?" repeated Oscar, incredulous.

"Aren't Mexicans known for their sensitive make-up?" Michael asked, grasping for a way to save face. "Not that you wear make-up."

"Look, we're having trouble getting our work done," said Oscar, trying a different approach. "That's the bottom line. You know there are still rumors of more branch closings some day in the future. We need a professional working environment."

But Michael merely shrugged and looked like he just wanted it to all go away. "Isn't this Toby's job? You're supposed to tell him things like this. Then he comes to me and I tell him to please go and die alone somewhere. Circle of life." He grinned but his audience didn't play along. "Okay, okay," he relented. "Let's get this over with."

"Thank you." Kevin smiled broadly in relief and looked over at Oscar who was surprised that they had managed to get Michael to move.

Michael stood up, sighed, and walked briskly out, the other two trailing behind him. They quickly made their way to the accounting area and gathered beside Angela, who was busy entering some data and looking intently at her monitor.

Sprinkles, now stuffed, sat proudly in the center of the three-desk workspace, facing Angela. Her long tail extended all the way to Kevin's keyboard and her powder blue leash edged onto Oscar's desk.

"See!" Kevin said, overflowing with frustration and pointing. "How do you expect us to work like this?"

Angela stopped what she was doing and turned around to face them, looking not at all surprised to find out where her two workmates had wandered off to. "Good morning, Michael. They've been complaining to you?"

"Yes. They were complaining about your pet. Former pet. Formerly frozen pet. The late Sprinkles."

Angela glanced sternly at Kevin and Oscar and then looked more softly towards her boss. "It's difficult to work in such an insensitive environment. It's not easy even coming in to work at all after my recent tragedy." She reached into a drawer to get a tissue in case she needed it. "I'm still not over it and this peace offering from Dwight is a comfort to me."

Michael's expression was a mixture of friendliness and confusion. He wasn't sure what to do to resolve the issue to everyone's satisfaction. "Uhhh..." he muttered, trying to buy time. "There's an old biblical story...that gives guidance on how to be fair in situations like this," he finally said, with authority. "I will cut the stuffed cat in half and whoever screams the loudest is the real mom."

At this, Angela started tearing up and dabbing her eyes, while Oscar and Kevin exchanged confused looks. This wasn't going how they had hoped.

"But I guess maternity isn't the issue here. Eternity is." Michael looked around grinning to see if anyone appreciated his wordplay. They didn't.

Before he could be upset by that, something caught his attention: a whiff of a familiar smell. "Is that....? Do I smell....?" He leaned over and smelled the cat deeply. "Ore-Ida! I love that brand."

"I thought Mose had cleaned most of that smell out of her fur." Angela wrinkled her nose and frowned in dismay.

"Come on, Michael." Oscar was exasperated with the delay. "Explain to her she has to keep that thing at home."

But Michael had just noticed something that made his eyes light up with amazement. "Look, little boots. That's neat! Did you make them yourself?" On each paw, the stuffed cat wore a knitted blue and white checked boot.

"Yes. I did, last night. Thank you for noticing. Blue was her favorite color."

"And little glasses!" He grinned and bent over to look closer. "I've never seen that before on a cat. Alive or stuffed."

Angela smiled and reached over, petting Sprinkles and straightening the cataract glasses so they balanced better on her nose. "She couldn't wear them while alive, much as I tried. I like that I can put them on her now. It makes me feel better."

Michael straightened up and regained composure. It was time for him to make a decision and hope they would all live with it. "I wasn't sure what to do about this situation when they first told me about it," he explained calmly. "But then I thaw it - saw it. Who can resist that? It's very cute."

"I can!" Kevin fumed. "I can resist it. I can't work with that around me. And neither can Oscar."

"The whole thing is morbid and distracting," Oscar agreed.

"Well you'll just have to." Michael slapped Kevin on the back. "Until one day you become a regional manager and you're in charge. For now, and probably for your lifetime, I'm in charge and I say it can stay."

Angela beamed and smiled a little. "I appreciate it. I'm sure Sprinkles would too."

Toby had just returned and had been looking for Michael to get him to sign some documents. He overheard the commotion and walked up to the group, quickly assessing the situation.

"Michael..." he said, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "You can't allow that. It's not fair to the other employees and I have questions about how sanitary it is."

Kevin stepped happily over to Toby and embraced him. "Thank you!"

"I'm just explaining what is appropriate." Toby shrugged it off and moved a step away. "As per guidelines and policies. And common sense."

Michael waved his arm dismissively. "Ignore Toby. He's like The Interrupter." He looked around, unsure if the others got his reference. "Conan O'Brien."

I don't get Irish TV channels," Angela sighed.

Toby noticed something and leaned over Angela's desk examining the cat carefully from several angles. "There seems to be something sticking out down here. In the chest area." He pulled at a small piece of yellowy substance that stuck out from between poorly stitched seams. "It looks like a -" The seam broke open at his tugging and what appeared to be at least a pound of uncooked french fries spilled onto the desk.

Angela gave out a startled gasp and Kevin stared in disbelief.

Oscar just shook his head. "Wow, that's incredible. Who stuffed that?"

Starting to tear up again and in shock at the sight of it all, Angela squeakily replied, "Mose. Dwight's cousin. I...I didn't watch him do it. I couldn't. I trusted him."

They all stood there stunned for a moment. Michael's disgust at the scene was mitigated by feeling good that he wasn't imagining the familiar smell that had caught his nose. In just a few seconds though, Angela's shock and sorrow turned to anger. She picked up a handful of the fries and stalked off in the direction of the sales team.

"Ow! What are you...? Ow!" they heard Dwight call out from across the room.

"How could you!"

"Mose said it was meaningful. It's the very bag that was her last companion. Ow!"

-----

Back in his office a few minutes later, seated behind his desk, Michael drummed his fingers on his desk and smiled as the documentary producer asked him to sum up what had just happened.

"Well that all worked out, even if in a weird way," he explained, feeling proud of how he'd handled the issue. "I stand by the ruling I made before it started leaking food. Stuffing the cat and keeping it on her desk might seem distracting and bad for business to some but to me it was a sign of love, which is something I can respect. Toby was against it but that's because nobody would ever love him that much. If Toby were to die, who would have him stuffed and put on their desk?" He stopped a moment to picture the image and grimaced. "Not me, that's for sure."