“No.”
“But look! It’s shaped like a mouse!” Pam squealed, shoving the unique cheese-slicer into Jim’s face.
“I know, and my answer’s still no.”
“Well,” she said. “I’m scanning it anyway.”
“There’s no need for an appliance that cuts cheese, especially not for one shaped like a rodent,” Jim said, trying to wrestle the scanner out of her hand.
Pam shrieked in laughter and everyone in the store glanced over at the couple when Jim picked her up in his attempt to stop her from scanning the tacky appliance.
“I thought you’d like this kind of thing,” Pam smiled.
“Cheese cutters?”
“No, putting stuff on our wedding registry that we would never in a million years be stupid enough buy ourselves. We leave the gifts that fall into the cheese-slicer arena to Michael.”
“Michael’s not even stupid enough to waste his money on that.”
“Wanna bet?” Pam smiled, scanning the price tag. “Five bucks says he buy it and wraps it in newspaper.”
Jim glanced at the bright orange plastic. “You’re on, Beesly. I‘ve got tinfoil and…” Jim’s eyes searched the store and they lit up when he saw it.
With a beep, he scanned five of them. “They’re called Uniquely Flavored. Look, you can even get them personalized.”
“Jim!” Pam reprimanded, her eyes wide, but trying not to laugh. “Those are inappropriate!”
“They’re just some naked girls on a deck of cards. And you’re just mad because you know Michael is going to go straight for these puppies,” he said tapping the cards.
“Oh my God, you are sooo lame. Take them off. Angela will have a heart attack when she sees those. She already thinks I’m a hussy.”
“No, they’re staying. But it’s your turn,” Jim said, tossing her the scanner.
Pam glanced over her shoulder towards the china. She looked around in their for a bit, but deemed everything pleasant and appropriate, so she didn’t scan anything.
“I’m going to put a time limit on this.” Jim made an obvious show of looking at his watch. “Let’s say each person gets five minutes. So… Ouch. You’re down to ten seconds, Beesly. Ten… nine… eight…”
“Hey!” she yelled, desperately looking for something ugly and expensive to scan.
“Four! Three!”
“Fine! Fine!” Pam lunged towards a squat, fat, and orange toaster and scanned it.
Jim came over and inspected it. “Eh. That’s not so bad.”
Pam raised her eyebrow. “Seriously? It’s not even the sleek cool orange like those phones. It’s… it’s… gym wrestling mat-orange. It looks dirty.”
“Well, we should un-register it anyways.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m pretty sure Stanley is just going to give us the toaster he got you last time.”
“Good point.” Pam scanned the toaster again.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m un-registering it like you said.”
“You just registered for two of them,” Jim said, trying not to laugh. “Here.” She handed him the scanner.
Beep.
“You just registered us for three now, Mr. Halpert.”
Jim flipped the scanner over in his hands. “How does this thing work?”
Jim and Pam were huddled over the scanner, so engrossed in trying to figure out how to un-register three identical, hideous toaster, that they didn’t notice that someone had come up behind them
“What are you playing with? … That’s what she said,” Michael said so loudly that the saleswomen arranging the stemware looked over at them.
“Oh,” Jim said, looking up. “Hey, Michael.” Jim raised his eyebrows at Pam. “What are you doing here?”
Michael swung a bag up. “Just buying some prezzies for the wedding.”
Pam paled when she saw the bag. “Victoria’s Secret?” she winced.
“Yeah,” Michael said. “I thought I’d help you two out and get something for the wedding night.”
Jim reddened. “Oh… uh… Michael? We don’t- uh- need you to do… that.”
“No problemo, but… I already did.” He smiled.
“Michael, you should return it. Why don’t you get something off of our wedding registry instead?” Pam suggested, moving her hand to her collar and buttoning an extra button.
“Pamela, you are a disgrace to those C-Cups,” Michael said, blowing air out through his mouth. “And besides, I can’t. I just took the tags off and wrapped it in the funnies, because those women couldn’t stop laughing when I told them that it for my friend’s wife.”
Pam looked to Jim. He sighed and took a five-dollar bill out of his pocket and slapped it into her hand.
Michael looked between the two of them as the exchange happened. “You have to pay to get some, Halpert? Jesus. I thought Pam was a Protestant.”
