“Jim Halpert.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

“Uh…okay.  How are you?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“I’m lying.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been better.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.  So this is awkward, right?”

“No.  Not at all.”

“It’s not the strangest conversation we’ve ever had?”

“You’re forgetting our twenty-five minute conversation about deer urine.”

“Right!  I had blocked it out.  Thanks.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“So…how are things over there?”

“Awful.  How are things in Stamford?”

“Different.  And in some ways, completely the same.”

“So, you have a Stamford Dwight?”

“He’s more like a hybrid of Dwight and Michael.”

“Oh, God!”

“Yeah, it’s weird.  So tell me what’s going on over there.”

“A lot, actually.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Well, your Gaydar was a big hit.  Until, of course, Dwight discovered that he was gay.”

“Excellent!  And Gaydar doesn’t lie.  Sharper Image promised.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

“So, what else?”

“Well…”

“It’s Michael, isn’t it?  He’s done something besides ‘out’ Oscar?”

“How did you know?”

“Kelly.”

“You mean Oscar’s new best friend?”

“Yeah.  She’s kept me up-to-date on a lot of things.”

“Oh.”

“So, you were going to say something.”

“Uh…yeah.  But it has nothing to do with Michael.”

“Dwight?”

“No.”

“Angela.  She has a new poster, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, but that’s not it.”

“Hmm…”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“Am I too late?”

“What?”

“Am I too late?”

“For what?”

“For you and me.  For us.”

“Pam, we’ll always be friends.  I’ll always be here if you need me.”

“I do need you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  I need you to look up.”