One day, several months after Jim had left, Michael handed Pam a stack of papers to sign. Which was strange because usually it was Pam handing the papers to Michael. He told her it was part of Jan's new plan to oversee his work, that he needed someone to witness his daily reports to her. So Pam didn't bother to read them, just signed the bottom of each one.
She should have known by the way Michael was bouncing on his toes that he was up to something.
When she finished, he leafed through the sheets. "Excellent, excellent. Ah, here it is." He beamed at one sheet in particular.
Pam frowned. "There what is?"
Michael looked up quickly and smiled. "Oh. Nothing. Nothing at all, Pam." And he danced back to his office. Badly.
Pam forgot about it until later that afternoon when Michael stepped out of his office, triumphant.
"Everybody, can I have your attention, please? I want you to stop whatever you're doing and check your inboxes for a message called Contest." He was bouncing again.
Curious, Pam checked her email. She opened the message and clicked on a big link that said CLICK HERE. The website that popped up had a photo of Pam from that night she had felt so smart and pretty. She stared at her shiny blue dress and her smiling face, then read the words on the page. When she looked up, everyone was watching her.
Michael's eyebrows were waggling. "Eh? Pretty cool, huh?"
"Are you kidding?" Pam asked him.
"Nope! This is very serious, Pam. Serious and fun. And helpful! All the money goes to charity, so... yes! Meredith!"
"You're going to auction off Pam?"
"No, we're not going to ‘auction off Pam'. Don't be stupid, this isn't a slave market. We're auctioning a date with Pam. Big difference."
Pam shook her head. "I'm not doing this, Michael."
"You've already agreed to it."
"No, I haven't."
"Oh, yes, you have. Right here." And Michael slid a piece of paper across the counter. It stated that Pam agreed to take part in the contest. Her signature was at the bottom.
"I wouldn't have signed this if I'd known what it was."
"Well, then, you should read things before you sign them, Pam. Are you careless with all of your job duties?"
Pam glared at Michael.
"Oh, come on! It'll be fun. And it'll get you back in the game! You're single now; you should be getting up to bat every inning!" Michael turned to go back to his office. "Be sure to register on the website, guys. You have to be registered to bid! Dwight? Kevin? Can I see you guys in my office?"
Pam watched Dwight and Kevin follow Michael into his office and close the door, then looked back at the website. She was surprised to see that there was already a bid. Maybe Michael was right. Maybe this was her chance to move on, meet someone new. She looked to see who had made the bid and gasped.
Suddenly, Pam didn't feel very well.
* * * * *
"Gentlemen, our services have been requested for a very important mission."
Dwight jumped. "I'll do it, Michael."
"Well, I hope so, because he's making it very much worth our while."
"Who is?" Kevin asked.
"Todd Packer," Michael said, enjoying their reactions. "That's right. Todd Packer wants to win this date with Pam, and we're going to help him."
Dwight scrunched his nose up. "Packer?"
"Yes?"
"But he's so... gross."
"What do you care? Were you going to bid on Pam?"
Dwight straightened his shoulders. "I already have a girlfriend."
"Sure, you do."
"But what if I wanted to bid on Pam?" Kevin asked.
"Right, Kevin. I really see that happening. Let me save you the trouble. Packer makes like double what you do. Where would you take her - Taco Bell? Please."
Kevin looked hurt, then remembered something. "What about Jim?"
"What about Jim? Nobody's heard from Jim in ages. He's too busy hanging out with Josh. Besides, Packer says he has that covered. Any more dumb questions?"
"No," said Kevin.
"Yes. Question. Not a dumb one. What is our mission, specifically?"
"Ah. Good question. Dwight, you're to monitor the incoming bids - keep an eye out for threats."
Dwight clicked his heels together. "Yes, Michael!"
"And Kevin, I want you to watch the people in this office - personally discourage anyone who might undermine the mission."
"Gotcha." Kevin cracked his knuckles.
"What will you do, Michael?"
"I will be supervising you two, and making sure that Pam doesn't chicken out."
Kevin frowned. "Does corporate know about this?"
"Yes... well... not exactly..."
"Well, wouldn't Jan get mad if-"
"Inconceptable. Besides, Kevin, I've already thought of that."
"Yeah, Kevin," Dwight said smugly.
Michael smiled and spread his hands. "I'd just tell her it was Stamford's idea. Then it'd be Josh's problem. All set? Duties clear? Great. Go." And he ushered them out.
Dwight went straight to his computer.
Kevin began to walk past Pam, then stopped. "You don't look so good."
Pam stared at Kevin a moment, then grabbed the signed contract and ran to the big paper shredder. She flipped it on.
"What are you doing?" Michael called from his office door.
Pam didn't listen. She shoved the edge of the paper into the shredder. But in her haste, the front of her sweater got caught in the shredder's teeth. They grabbed at the fabric, chewing it hungrily, twisting Pam around. She realized as she was pulled toward the grinding machine that it would soon grab her hair. But now the power switch was behind her - she couldn't reach it.
Just as Pam began to panic-
"Are you okay?"
"H-huh?!" She's clutching his shirt.
"You look worried."
"Oh, no... I'm not worried. Just a little... concerned."
"She doesn't get hurt, you know."
"She doesn't?"
"No."
"Whew. Okay. Thanks, Grandpa." She relaxes her grip.
"Sure. Okay, so..."
Just as Pam began to panic, the shredder died.
Kevin had pulled the plug. He stood holding it dumbly, as Michael rushed over.
"What are you doing?"
"Shredding the contract."
Michael laughed. "Nice try, Pam, and a little crazy. But that was a photocopy. I still have the original." He turned to Kevin. "Put that down and cut her out of there. Inconceptable."
So Kevin used scissors to cut Pam's cardigan just above the shredder. Pam sank into her chair and sighed. Her cardigan was ruined and TPacker still had the highest bid, which was $5. She began to lose hope.
Just then, Dwight perked up in his chair. "New registrant! Michael, new registrant! DPRoberts. Who's that?"
Michael shook his head. "Must be from another branch. See, Pam, they're already chomping at the bit!" Then he elbowed Dwight and whispered, "Not that it'll matter," to which Dwight giggled. "Keep an eye on it."
Pam read the new name. DPRoberts. It sounded familiar. She checked her corporate directory - no Robertses. Must be someone new, she thought.
Her computer beeped.
The bid had gone up $20. DPRoberts had raised it. Pam wondered if DPRoberts was at least cute. Then...
Beep. $30. TPacker.
Beep. $35. DPRoberts.
Beep. $40. TPacker.
Beep. $45. DPRoberts.
Beep. $50. TPacker.
Beep. $55. DPRoberts.
Beep. $60. DSchrute.
"Dwight!" Angela screeched.
"I was just trying to-"
Beep. $65. DPRoberts.
Beep. $70. TPacker.
Beep. $500. DPRoberts.
"Whoa!" said nearly everyone in the office.
Except Michael, who yelled, "Inconceptable!"
Dwight looked at him closely. "You keep saying that. I don't think it means... anything."
Pam sat back, shocked at the bid. And more than a little hopeful. Then she saw the note that accompanied it:
That should hold for a while. If anyone's up for a parry,
meet me at VirtualSwordfight.com. Be ready to lose.
Dwight chuckled. "Oh, I am so there. Don't worry, Michael, I'll take this guy out."
Pam sat up. "What do you mean, ‘don't worry, Michael'? What's going on?"
But Dwight was already busy signing in and choosing a sword.
Michael scowled at Dwight's choice. "That one? Really?"
"Yes. It's long and lightweight and perfectly balanced for my character's build..."
"Dork."
"...and when I choose to fight him left-handed, I'll get triple strike points."
"Ugh. Whatever. Okay, everybody back to work. Pam, come with me, I need you to take some notes."
Pam sighed and picked up her steno pad. It wouldn't be the first time she'd felt like a captive in Michael's office. Or the last, most likely.
