"And I'm allergic to sesame seeds," Holly said, ticking off her ring finger.

"No seeds for you!" Michael barked in his Soup Nazi voice.

"I think that's all the trivia I can come up with. When's the team-building day?"

"Ah, soon," Michael said. He put the notebook back in his coat pocket and drummed his fingers on top of her cubicle partition. "Very soon. Don't mention it to anyone else. I want - you know, the surprise. Silence is golden."

Holly raised her hand solemnly. "Scout's honor."

Michael steepled his hands and bowed to her. "You are an honorable woman," he said in his Japanese voice.

"Arigato, Mr. Scott-o," she said. "Shall we do the super-secret ninja pinky swear?"

She held out her pinky, and he hooked it with his. His finger was cold but dry. He held on just a little too long, but she didn't mind.

"What's the surprise?" Kelly asked over the wall.

******

"OK, OK, see if you can keep up with this one," Michael said. He beatboxed for a second. "Let me start at the start, then take it away, my name is Simpson, Bartholomew J., that's BART with an -ART and a capital B, plus SIMP- "

"Then S-O-N, that's me."

"Oh my god, you had The Simpsons Sing the Blues!"

"Wore it out," Holly said, digging at the air with her hand. "I had to buy two cassettes."

"I bought three," Michael said. "Although actually that's just because my mom - uh, my roommate kept throwing them away."

"That is so unfair, man," Holly said.

"Like, righteously unfair, dude," Michael said in his Bart Simpson voice, which also kind of sounded like his surfer voice. "Like, don't have a cow, man."

"Totally."

"We should make up our own rap!" Michael said. "For the weight loss challenge!"

"Like a motivational thing?"

"Sure! Whatever! Hey, guys!" Michael beckoned to the cameras over by the scale, catching Anton's attention. Holly smoothed her hair quickly as he crossed the warehouse floor, and Michael dropped into his rapper's crouch.

"On three," Michael hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

******

"Shall we dance?" Michael asked after the third time they'd stepped the same way trying to pass each other in the kitchen.

"Oh, I - ha," Holly said. She looked over his shoulder through the window into the main office. "Is your - is that, uh, lady still here?"

"Jan? Yeah, but she's leaving in a minute to meet with a wick supplier. She's a professional chandler."

"You are so kidding me."

Michael looked at her blankly.

"Chandler Bing?" Holly asked. "From Friends?"

"Oh, sorry," Michael said. "You didn't really sound like him."

Holly hung her head. "Yeah, I'm not really good at that one."

"Keep trying!" Michael said, punching her on the shoulder a little too hard. She flinched and he let his arm hang in the air awkwardly.

"Ow," she said, rubbing her arm.

"Oh, sh - are you OK?" Michael asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"You're not gonna, like, report me or anything? Wait, who would you report me to? You're HR!" He laughed and punched her in the same spot on her other shoulder before brushing past her and going into the bathroom. Holly stayed where she was, still clutching at her shoulder, listening to him hum "I'll Be There For You" through the door. Her arms ached all afternoon.

******

"Cat soup?" Holly asked, picking up the ketchup bottle. "Sounds like something we'd have back on Planet Melmac!"

"Uh, it's another way to spell ketchup," Brett said, putting his menu down and frowning.

"No, I know that," Holly said quickly. She didn't want him to think she was stupid. "I'm doing ALF. Ha, I kill me!"

"Alf?"

"He ate cats?"

"What?"

"Never mind," Holly said. Her first-date jokes always went over like this. "It's just something silly. Tell me more about the bikram philosophy."

Yesterday at lunch she and Michael had quoted almost the entire episode in which ALF electrocuted himself putting a hair dryer into the bath tub and thought he was an insurance agent. Michael did a pretty great impression of Willie.

******

The date had really been more of a 6.5 than an 8.5, but she wasn't going to say that in front of - Oscar. She really cared about what - Oscar thought. Really.

******

"You're not supposed to do Michael Klump anymore," Holly said. "He's on the list of characters that Toby gave me."

"This isn't Michael Klump," Michael said, still bouncing against the doorway of his office.

"Who is it then?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Holly, can't you tell?"

"I don't - no, I can't tell. He just looks like you in a fat suit."

"It's a sumo suit."

"Are you a sumo wrestler?"

"No, Holly," Michael said in a weird, deep voice. "I'm your boyfriend. Your big, fat boyfriend."

Holly's throat felt tight for just a second before the joke came. "Your face is your big fat boyfriend," she said, deepening her voice like his.

"Your mom is your big fat boyfriend." He paused. "Wait. That's gross."

"Ew, yeah," she said. "Uh, your mom's face is your big fat boyfriend. No."

"Your mom has a big fat boyfriend," Michael tried.

"My mother's dead."

"Oh," Michael said. "I'm sorry."

"It's OK."

"How did she die? Was it an accident?"

"No, she had breast cancer."

"Oh." Michael's mouth twisted into a grimace, and he made a little snorting sound.

"Are you all right?" Holly asked.

"Uh-huh," Michael said, sounding choked. "Breasts."

"Yeah," Holly said. She folded her arms across her chest. "OK, you're really just Michael Klump, aren't you?"

Michael's shoulders slumped, and he sighed, dragging one toe across the carpet. "The thing about corporate, and about Toby, is that they don't understand how this office works. It's on a very sophisticated level, and it takes sophistication to understand that, like how only French people get Jerry Lewis and that's why he moved there."

"I don't think Jerry Lewis moved to France."

"He didn't?" Michael asked. "Who did?"

"Michael, let's just make up a new character to teach people about body image, OK? Like Michael - Pump."

"What? That's dumb."

"Hey," Holly said, stung. "I think it's funny. Like how you use a pump to blow up your suit."

"How about Michael Dump?"

It was gross, and inappropriate, and she probably shouldn't have laughed, but Holly snickered along with Michael anyhow.

"Your face is Michael Dump," she said.

"Zing-ah!"

******

It was almost five when Holly snuck down the warehouse stairs, holding the handle as she closed the door behind her so it wouldn't make any noise. The torn squares of red paper were still on the floor by the big scale, and she crouched down to sweep them into a little pile. Maybe she could still tape them together. Maybe her neighbor would go with her.

"Stop, thief!"

Holly swiveled quickly on the balls of her feet and over-balanced, landing on one hip with her legs sprawling out. It hurt, and she was pretty sure her underwear were showing.

"Respect mah proper-tah!" Michael said, jumping down the last two stairs and coming to stand over her.

"I was just picking them up," Holly said. She tugged at her skirt and shifted onto her knees.

"No backsies," Michael said. "Indian giver."

"I didn't give them to you," Holly said.

"Indian seller."

"Michael, can I ask you something?"

"Is this a question of a business or a personal nature?"

"What difference does it make?"

Michael crouched down until his face was on level with hers. "Because I want to know if I have to sign a release form."

Holly shook her head. "Michael, how come you tore up the tickets?"

"To be a good friend."

"How was that being a good friend?"

Michael leaned back and wobbled on his heels. "Uh, so you weren't, you know, thinking about them."

"Well, now I'm just thinking about them being torn up and no one using them."

"Did you - want me to use them?" Michael asked.

"Well, I didn't want no one to use them."

"But you were gonna go with - that guy. I didn't want you thinking about someone else going."

"Oh," Holly said. "So you were going to, like, take a date."

"What?" Michael asked. "No."

"Oh."

"I thought maybe you wanted to go with me," Holly said, at the same time as Michael said "It's not like I couldn't have gotten a date."

"What did you say?" Michael asked.

"Nothing," Holly said quickly. She scooted the little pile towards him and stood up. "Thanks for being a good friend, Michael."

"Uh, you're welcome. I think - I think we're a good team."

"Yeah," Holly said. She tipped her head and smiled. "Like Mork and Mindy."

"Na-nu na-nu."

"Kay-o," she said.