Shawn and Gus arrived at their hotel, unloaded their luggage and sat down to take in their surroundings. Since their surroundings consisted of the highway, a gas station and an adult book/novelty store, the two men decided to drive into Scranton to get a feel for the place. They drove around the sleepy city in their rental car, a 1995 Ford Aspire, another gift from Lassiter, and discussed potential theories about the case they were on.

“I don’t know man, those crime scene photos Juliet left are quite possible the most disturbing things I’ve seen,” Shawn murmured as he flipped through the case file for the umpteenth time. He generally didn’t like to admit when something disturbed him, but he had a genuine chill run up his spine when he saw the graphic photos of the victim.

“Why paper, though? That’s the part that I can’t wrap my mind around,” Gus added. “It just seems unnecessary. And demented. The whole thing is off. There is something very off about all of this. Why would a dirty city councilman have anything to do with a paper company here in Scranton?”

“Maybe some tree huggers want to make a point about all the trees killed to make Dimhill Muffin paper company,” Shawn mentioned nonchalantly as he threw the file on the floorboard and gazed out the passenger-side window.

“The company’s name is Dunder Mifflin, Shawn.”

“But wouldn’t it be great if they were a muffin company? At least we wouldn’t go hungry during this investigation. Speaking of hungry, I’m starving. Let’s find a place to eat.”

Gus drove around until they found an open restaurant. Unfortunately, they were out after 8pm and most places in the city were already shut down for the night. They parked and walked into Poor Richards. There was a group of guys, and one woman, commandeering the large, semi-circular booth toward the back of the restaurant. Several empty pitchers and shot glasses indicated that they’d been there for a whiler12;or had just gotten there and hadn’t wasted any time in getting very drunk.

Shawn and Gus took a seat in a booth on the other side of the restaurant. Shawn sat facing the group in the back so he could observe and Gus immediately started scanning the menu for anything that looked edible. The guys in the back were all wearing the same gray collared shirts; obviously they all worked together. He honed in on the name of the company embroidered on all the grey shirts… did that say?... Dunder Mifflin? Yes, it did. These fine gentlemen, and lady, worked for Dunder Mifflin. Well I’ll be damned, Shawn thought. He then zeroed in on the guy making the most noise in the back. It was a stout, muscular guy with a beard, he’d obviously been drinking, and was animatedly telling a story that the rest of the group thought was hysterical. Suddenly Shawn realized that Gus had been trying to ask a question.

“…but without the cheese sauce. Shawn! Are you even listening to me?” Gus asked, annoyed.

“Umm, no. No I was not. Something about cheese sauce. But more importantly, the large group back there just happens to work for Dunder Mifflin. How lucky are we?” Shawn smirked.

“No. We are not starting the investigation until tomorrow. I have been traveling all day and intend to eat my dinner and immediately go to bed. If you want to stay here and pal around with those guys, be my guest. But get your own ride back to the hotel because I am leaving right after I finish my meal.” The waitress reappeared just as Shawn was getting up to walk over to the group of Dunder Mifflinites.

“Shawn, are you not ordering anything?” Gus was really irritated now, but Shawn always followed his instinct. Hey, it hadn’t let them down yet, right?

“Just order me whatever you’re getting,” Shawn said and walked away. He’s totally going to order something I hate just to be an ass. Whatever. I’m going to get this thing solved as fast as possible so that we can get the hell out of here and back home, Shawn thought. He approached the group, grabbed a nearby chair and swung it around so that it landed right in front of the group’s table and straddled it as he sat down.

“What’s going on, guys?” Shawn asked the suddenly silent group.

“Uh, sorry, who are you?” asked one of the guys; Darryl was embroidered on his shirt.

“Oh, sorry. Let me introduce myself. I’m Shawn Spencer. Spending a couple of days here in Scranton with my buddy Gus over there,” Shawn said as he pointed behind his shoulder at Gus. “I noticed, from your shirts, that you guys work for Dunder Mifflin? Gus and I are here to do a little investigative work on the company for the SBPD for a few days.”

“What are you investigating? Because, look, Michael might be kind of a douche, but I doubt he has the ability to intentionally do anything illegal…” the bearded guy said from the back of the booth.

“Michael? What? Who’s?…no, we’re just doing a little background work for a case based in California. It’s nothing big, I can assure you.”

“Well, Shawn Spencer, how about you and you’re buddy join us for a few drinks? We’re having a bit of a celebration and we can give you the low-down on Dunder Mifflin. But mostly we’re celebrating, right guys?” Darryl said, inciting hoots and hollers from the rest of the table.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Next round is on me! Gus! Get over here and meet these guys!” Shawn yelled out across the restaurant. He had no idea what they were celebrating but, hell, he could use a drink. Gus got up and gave Shawn the look that said “I really, really hate you right now,” as he walked over to the group.

The night wore on with discussions about the most insane boss Shawn and Gus had ever heard of. They heard stories from Lonnie, Roy (the bearded guy they saw when they walked in), Madge (the one woman) and a few others. They were told about the bearded guy’s fiancˇ cheating on him with some salesman from “upstairs” (Apparently these were the warehouse guys. Shawn and Gus would most likely be spending time with the folks in the office) and the fight that apparently got Roy fired recently and about the most unprofessional antics the two Californians had heard of in an office. Around the third pitcher that Shawn ordered (Gus, God-bless-him, was not drinking), he started asking about anything strange that any of them noticed with any of the guys from “upstairs.”

“Look, man. Everything up there is always strange. You’ll find that out when you experience it for yourself.”

Shawn was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol and noticed that it was getting to be 2am. They had to be at the office tomorrow at 9 to debrief the boss on the investigation. Well, at the least the debriefing with this Michael character should be interesting, Shawn thought.

“Look, guys, we’ve gotta go,” Gus said as he stood up and stretched his legs. “We’ll come down and see you tomorrow morning after our debriefing with the boss.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. Hey, do you think you could record that conversation? I’d love to hear what kinds of crazy things Michael says during that meeting,” asked Lonnie with a smirk.

“Really, be sure to come on down and chill with us for a while when you’re there. Trust mer12;you’re gonna need to get away from the crazy at some point in the day,” Darryl confided in Gus.

“Definitely. We’ll see you guys tomorrow! Take care!” Shawn called out as he and Gus shuffled out the door.

On the drive back to scenic Moosic, PA, Shawn and Gus were pretty silent. They were both digesting all of the insane tales the warehouse guys told them.

“They can’t be serious. It’s not possible for an office to be that dysfunctional,” Gus commented.

“Dude, a funeral for a bird? Really?” Shawn chuckled. “And that fake suicide attempt? What in the holy hell is that!? Who does that?!”

“Obviously this Michael guy.” Gus responded. “Tomorrow should be interesting.”