There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone.

Michael Scott was walking down a deserted dirt path in his business suit. He was alongside groups of trees and bushes in the middle of nowhere on a bright and sunny morning. The air was comfortable and he was smiling. He reached his hand up and ran his fingers through some leaves hanging over the pathway. As he walked further down the path he began to hear music, an orchestral jazz number. He continued on around a corner when he saw a cafe and a paved road. The music had grown louder as he got closer to the restaurant.

It was extremely quiet outside and the cafe's parking lot was empty. He decided to grab a quick bite to eat before continuing his walk. When he pushed the door open to the small place, he was surprised to see the room was empty. The music was much louder and coming from a jukebox in the corner.

He walked up to the counter and leaned on his hands while peering into the kitchen. "Hello? I see there's a town up the street. Anybody know what it's called?" No one responded. He decided to walk around the edge of the counter to take a look behind it. He walked through to the kitchen and put his hands on the door frame, leaning into the room.

"You have a custo...mer," he trailed off. The space was empty as well, not a soul in sight.

"Hmmm," he pondered.

There was a back door in the kitchen; Michael thought he'd take a look outside. Maybe the owner was out back. "Hello... you have a customer out front," he shouted through the doorway. There was no one out there either.

He turned back into the kitchen and shut the door behind him. Over the loud music he heard a bubbling noise coming from the right side of the room. He looked around a refrigerator and saw a coffee percolator steaming on the stove. Next to the coffee were 3 pies cooling on a rack. Somebody must be around here, he thought.

"You have a customer out here..." he reached for a coffee cup and poured himself a glass. Suddenly the jukebox went quiet and turned itself off. "I was looking for breakfast, I’m starved. I have cash." When no one responded again he leaned over the counter and took a sip of the coffee. A few minutes later he finished his cup and placed a dollar on the counter.

He flipped the "Open" sign on the front door to read "Closed" and then shut it behind him. Stepping back out into the bright light, he raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and looked up and down the road. Everything was so quiet. He had come from the south so he decided to continue heading north. He followed the bare road from out front of the cafe up to a small quaint town. There were houses around him as he headed to the town square. When he approached the middle of town a church bell rang from the left corner of the street. It surprised him and he expected to see parishioners pouring out of the church doors. There were no voices, no laughter, and no sounds anywhere. A post office was placed on the opposite side of the street next to a market and laundromat.

He walked over to the sidewalk lined with stores and peered inside a hardware store, it was also empty. He continued down the sidewalk looking in every window, and every door.

Nothing.

"Hello? Is there anybody in here?" He asked inside a bakery doorway.

Nothing.

When he turned away he saw a truck parked across the street. He began walking towards it when he saw a woman sitting in the passenger seat.

"Ma'am? Oh thank goodness..." he skipped down off the sidewalk and headed toward the truck. "It's the stupidest thing. I haven't seen anyone around, maybe they're all off somewhere but really you're the first person I've seen all morning. I was wondering if you could help me." He stopped in front of the hood and continued talking to the woman. "The thing is I don't remember who I am. I have no clue what my name is, I woke up this morning... well actually I didn't even wake up. I just sort of was walking down that road over there. I suppose I have amnesia or worse I'm going to need a doctor." He walked around to the door of the truck and pulled it open when the woman fell out of the seat onto the ground next to him. It wasn't a woman after all, it had been a mannequin dressed in women's clothing and placed on the passenger seat.

Michael leaned his hand onto the truck door and chuckled to himself. He stepped over her and slid his back down the side of truck sitting beside her.

"I didn't mean to upset you. You know I always had a thing for the quiet type." He reached over and scooped the doll up into his arms and set her back inside the truck. When he shut the door behind, he noticed the words "Bratton's Store Mannequins" painted on the side of it. He rolled his eyes and then turned back to the street.

The courthouse, the school, the market, everything was empty. The park located in the middle of the square was bare, not even a flock of birds bathing in the fountain. He turned around and looked at the truck again. He ran back to it quickly and reached inside the driver's side window hoping to find the keys.

Nothing.

"You don't happen to have the keys do you?" He jokingly asked the mannequin. The sound of a telephone ring suddenly filled the air. Michael stopped and turned looking for the source of the sound. There was a pay phone across the street. Michael ran as quickly as he could and reached inside for the phone.

"Hello?" He answered breathlessly.

Nothing.

"Hello?" He began hitting the flapper trying to get someone. "Operator? Anyone?"

Nothing.

He shifted the phone over onto his shoulder and reached into his pockets for change. He pulled out a few quarters and dropped one into the change slot then dialed "0".

A woman's voice came over the line, "This is the operator..."

Michael interrupted her and began speaking. "Oh thank goodness, operator I was wondering if anybody down there could tell me..."

"...please make sure you have the right number..."

"Heh-row?" He stopped and let the message play over.

"This is the operator. The number that you have reached is not a working number please make sure you have the right number and dial again..."

"Damn you!"

“...this is a recording. This is the operator. The number that you..."

Michael slammed the phone down and leaned his hands against the glass booth. His breathing still labored and sweat was glistening down his temples. He looked down and saw a local phone book hanging beneath the telephone. He lifted it up and read the top of it.

"Scranton local directory"

He started flipping through the pages reading names to himself, "Baker, Balsworth, Benny... where are all of you?"

He dropped the book and pushed on the phone booth's door, it didn't budge. The door was stuck and he kept pushing to try and get out. "Ha ha, can someone let me out? Soooo funny I forgot to laugh. Come on, somebody?"

He kept pushing and pushing and the door gave way just an inch. He could get his fingers out enough of the crack but it was jammed and refused to open all the way. He dropped his hands and took a deep breath, calming his nerves. Then he slid his palm inside the crack and pushed it against the door from at the top. It began to move and with one last aggressive push, he got the door free.

Michael stepped out of the phone booth and took a deep breath. He looked up and saw a sign above the building in front of him.

"A police station, perfect."

The door to the station was open, just like all the stores’ had been. He walked inside and began looking around. A police radio sat on a desk behind the counter and he picked it up and made an announcement.

"Calling all cars, calling all cars, suspicious guy walking around the police station. He's tough, rugged and good looking. May have super powers..." he stopped and gazed across the room as a small line of smoke raised up from a cigar sitting in an ashtray on the counter top. He set the radio back down and grabbed the cigar, lifting it up to look at it. It hadn't been there long; it was still about 5 inches in length.

He put it back into the ash tray and walked over to the cell area. The bars creaked as he pushed them open. His footsteps were loud on the cement as he walked through the jail cell's corridor.

Nothing.

He turned the corner and could hear the faint sound of water running. He took a few more steps and looked inside one of the cells to see a shaving kit sitting on a sink with the water still running. There were shaving crème remnants floating in the water. He stepped inside the cell and took a portion of the shaving crème between his fingers inspecting the freshness. Behind him the cell door began to close and he lifted his head watching the shadow across the wall. His heart began to pound and he threw the shaving crème into the sink and pushed open the door quickly, then raced out of the jail.

Once outside he began to yell while running across the street. "HEY! Where is everybody?"

"Mmmm ice cream, you scream. Me want sundae." He walked behind the counter and grabbed himself a sundae glass and reached into the refrigerator scooping out a giant spoonful of chocolate chip ice cream. He plopped it forcefully into the dish and then covered the top of it with hot fudge. When he turned around he saw the back wall covered with a giant mirror. Leaning on the counter, he looked at himself and began spooning the ice cream feverishly into his mouth.

"Whas a happenin' hot stuff? I recognize you. Sorry I don't remember the name though. I don't even know why I'm wearing this suit to be honest. I did just remember something though. Someone once said 'you are what you eat' so I guess you're something I ate last night and it didn't sit well. I don't like this nightmare. I've never had a dream before that was so vivid, if it wasn't creepy it’d be kinda cool. I really want to wake up.” He set the ice cream dish down on the counter and lifted his hands up into the air screaming, “SERENITY NOW!”

****

Michael was drawing a picture in the dirt on the ground. The sky had turned dark and the town around him was pitch black. He was sitting on a park bench, while his finger traced a smiley face below him.

With a flash the lights surrounding the square turned on and the town lit up quickly. The theater, across the way, had flashing lights around the marquee with the movie title Death of a Salesman boldly lit in yellow. He stood and walked slowly to the front of the theater. He read the movie poster located by the front door and his mouth dropped open and eyes grew wide.

“I’m a salesman!” He screamed. He raced inside the theater lobby, pushing the door open hard. “I’m a salesman!”

Nothing.

He raced inside the closest theater. “Hey I’m a salesman!”

No one.

The large white screen stood before him in a completely quiet theater. He slumped down into one of the seats and looked at the empty room.

“I don’t even know what that means. I assume I sell something.”

Then the lights went down and the movie started up on the screen. Michael looked up and saw the projector had started. Trying to look inside the projector room above, he stood up and started shouting again.

“Hey! HEY!” He ran out of the theater and up the stairs outside the doorway. “Hey! Who’s up there?” He was taking the steps 2 by 2 and running as quickly as he could. His suit was now heavy and warm. His undershirt was soaked with sweat and the jacket was becoming a burden. When he got to the projectionist room he began banging on the door. “Who’s in here?” He pushed himself through and looked inside the room.

Nothing.

“Can’t anyone hear me?!” He yelled out through the hole in the wall. Turning back around, Michael quickly ran down the stairs to the lobby. The momentum from the stairs made him collide into the mirrored wall opposite of the stairs. Hitting his head against it, it shattered around him and he fell backwards onto the carpet.

He was breathing heavy when he sat back up. Sweat was dripping heavily down his temples. He stood up and stared at his reflection in the broken mirror, then turned away quickly.

He ran back out into the cool night air, never looking behind him. Tripping on the sidewalk, he stumbled forward almost losing his balance. He was stumbling over his shoes and running clumsily from something or someone he could not see.

Michael raced up to a stop light on the corner of the street and began pushing the walk signal button over and over again. He leaned his body against the pole and continued to push the button with his thumb.

“Help me, help me. Can somebody help me? Somebody is watching me. Help me! Help me! Can somebody help me? Please! Help me!”

He closed his eyes and continued to push the button over and over again.

In a dark spacious warehouse a group of 5 men sat in folding chairs surrounded by monitoring systems and shelves stocked full of paper boxes. They were watching a man in a chamber hooked up to wires and machinery scream for help.

“Release the subject on the double.”

The man’s voice could be heard through the metal encasement clearly.

“Help me, help me. Can somebody help me? Somebody is watching me. Help me! Help me!”
~~~~~~

Oscar and Kevin raced over to the entrance of the chamber and stepped inside. Michael was slumped over in his seat leaning against a metal box with a push button on the front of it. His thumb was pressing consistently with zeal.

Oscar pulled him up while Kevin started unbuttoning his shirt to pull the wires off of his chest. As they continued to free him from the wiring, Dwight, Andy and Ryan began discussing what had happened.

“Alright Dwight, go.” Ryan demanded.

“He’s alright, just delusions I think. He’s coming out of it now.”

“Good, this has been an interesting experiment. How long has he been in there?”

“Exactly 484 hours and 36 minutes.”

“Amazing. Did you get all the data recorded into the computer system?”

“Yes Ryan.”

“Good, I want to see all the data when it’s compiled and then I want to see the reaction from him once we receive it. Make sure to bring it to Michael’s office when you’re all set. I’m going to go up stairs and make a few phone calls. Thank you Dwight.” Dwight saluted and got up from his chair and headed toward Michael.

“Andy come with me.” Ryan and Andy both stood up and walked up the stairs to the doorway of the warehouse.

The two men entered the Dunder Mifflin hallway and Andy opened the door holding it open for Ryan.

“So do you think it was a success sir?” They walked inside and passed by Jim and Pam at reception. They stepped inside Michael’s office and Ryan shut the door behind him.

“Yes, I think it was a smashing success actually.”

“Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Well, as alright as Michael can be.” Ryan smiled and then slunk into Michael’s desk chair while Andy sat across from him. “We were monitoring everything, his respiration, his heart rate, blood pressure. Everything was normal until the end. He just cracked that’s all, delusions of some kind. I’d like to see you be confined in a box 5 feet square for about 2 and a half weeks without human contact and not lose it. I’m sure your imagination would run away from you too. Actually you snap when people hide your cell phone so I’m sure it wouldn’t even take 2 days.”

There was a soft knock on the office door.

“Come in.”

Pam pushed the door open quietly and looked inside. “Uh, Ryan? Dwight called up and said Michael’s awake if you wanted to speak to him. He’s weak and they’re keeping him resting downstairs for now. He’s alright though, right?”

“Yes, thanks Pam, we’ll go right now. Come on Andy.” The two men left and walked quickly back down stairs.

“Michael!” Ryan called from the stairs.

Michael looked up and gave a little wave and a smile. “Hello Ryan.”

“How do you feel?”

“Much better thanks.”

Ryan raced down the stairs and sat down in a chair next to Michael.

“What was it like? Where did you think you were?”

“Guh, no where I want to go again that’s for sure. It was this little town, a town without people or anyone. How did that happen, could you see it on the monitors?”

Dwight spoke up first. “Your mind created it out of nothing. You weren’t in contact with anyone and the medication was stopping your brain from remembering where you were so your thoughts created a delusion of emptiness. The Schrute brain is more powerful than yours, I would’ve created a town with people. Next time I should be the one in the chamber. You’ll get to see an amazing brain at work.”

Michael turned away from Dwight brushing off his comments and looked back to Ryan, “so… now what?”

“Well now we know how you’ll work under extreme pressures. We plan on putting our regional managers through some rigorous stress tests and we wanted to check your senses first. You were actually the first name that came up when this test was brought up in a meeting. We knew you could handle it.” Ryan flashed his corporate-smile at Michael.

“Why did I have to be in there for so long like that?”

“Well, we were simulating your office and what it would be like if you weren’t allowed to leave it or interact with your employees. We wanted to see how you would do actually working a full 8 hour day, 40 hour week.” Ryan slapped his hand down on Michael’s shoulder. “You did extremely well Michael, extremely.”

Michael smiled wide with pride.

“Thanks buddy.”

Even without knowing the purpose, even without knowledge of use, Michael Scott allowed himself to be isolated from his life, his loved ones, and his job. He put his body and mind through the most rigorous test of his life for the love of his company. He took steps to enter into the unknown, to risk his health for the unfamiliar; he traveled into the Twilight Zone.