Jim sits at his desk typing something on his computer. Every so often his eyes drift to the couch by his door before returning back to his monitor. Dwight sits on the couch flipping through a magazine.
Jim can’t take it any longer, “Hey, Dwight are you taking your lunch break right now or something?”
Dwight looks up from his magazine, “Oh, no, already spoke with all my clients, so I figured I’d take a little down time.”
Jim nods, “All right then.”
Dwight drops his magazine, “Actually, I was hoping we could talk about lady issues.”
“Um…” Jim covers his mouth with his hand. “Okay, wow,” he mumbles into his palm. It takes a moment to recompose himself, but he’s too interested in what Dwight might have to say, “What kind of lady issues?”
Dwight puckers his lips thoughtfully, “When a lady doesn’t require you to wear proper prophylactics, is it fair to assume they are on some sort of contraceptive?”
Jim regrets his curiosity, “Yes, usually.” He nods tightly. “Unless they’re one of those devout Catholic types, you know in the literal sense, where it’s against their beliefs to use birth control.”
The color drains from Dwight’s face, “Crap bag,” he mutters.
“But you don’t have to worry,” Jim laughs, “because you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“To the contrary,” he chuckles deeply, “she’s a little firecracker, that’s what she is.”
He flinches, “Sure she is, Dwight.”
“What about your girlfriend,” he says challengingly, “what is she like?”
“European,” Jim says simply.
“European? That doesn’t say anything. Majority of the United States is from European descent, she could be anyone.”
“No, I mean straight out of Europe,” he elaborates. “She’s hairy and doesn’t bath regularly; it really drives on the animalistic urges.”
Dwight shakes his head, “That’s disgusting.”
“Hey, at least I’m not dating a fire crotch,” he counters.
“I did not say fire crotch,” Dwight says pounding his fist against the armrest, “I said firecracker!”
“No, you definitely said fire crotch,” Jim says with a grin.
Dwight narrows his eyes, “Well at least I’m not dating a hobbit!”
“Yeah,” Jim agrees, “she is short, and man are her big feet sexy.”
He doesn’t expect Jim to take his insult as a complement. “Yeah, well,” Dwight begins to stumble over his words. “At least…” he gets up from the couch. “I don’t have to take this.”
Jim follows Dwight with his eyes and then looks to the camera with a grin. “All too easy.”
Meredith reloads the copy machine and presses the ‘Start’ button a second time.
Jim steps out of his office with a box that he sets on his former desk. “All right everybody,” he announces, “gather round.”
The office circle around the desk peering into the box curiously. “General performance has been a little down lately, so we’re going to have a little morale booster,” he explains. “Not a Michael Scott morale booster mind you, a Jim Halpert one.”
“Is anybody here familiar with the game Murder?” He looks around at the blank stares, “Come on, somebody had to play this in college at some point.” Toby and Kelly raise their hands. “Good,” Jim says content. “For those who haven’t, I’ll explain the rules.” He reaches into the box and pulls out a butter knife. “Everybody will pick a knife that has a piece of tape on it with a number. This is your number. Beneath this piece of tape is a second number. This is your victim.”
Pam walks up with a large sheet of decorated oak tag. “Our lovely receptionist, Pam has set up a board for us so that we can all keep track of who belongs to which number. Now the point of the game is to get your victim alone with you in a room with the door closed, that way there are no witnesses. An important tidbit, you must get permission to close a door when trying to corner a victim.All rooms are up for grabs including restrooms, the break room, the conference room, the elevator, and staircases. The murder must take place on company property so there’s no following people home, Dwight.”
Jim taps his finger against his chin, “Let’s see…” he mumbles under his breath. “Ah, right, if you are ‘murdered,’” he emphasizes with air quotes, “you are considered a ghost. This means that if Stanley, Meredith, and I are in the break room and the doors are closed and I’m already dead, then Stanley can kill Meredith because as we learned in the film Ghost only cats and Whoopi Goldberg can see you. In order to keep track of who is dead or alive,” Jim says walking over to Pam and the “Murder Board”, “when you are killed you will cross your name off the board, but don’t tell anyone because it keeps things interesting.”
He clasps his hands together. “Any questions?”
“Are alliances allowed?” Dwight asks.
Jim grins, “Alliance are allowed and encouraged, but remember in the end it’s every man,” he quickly adds, “or woman for their self.” He looks around, “Any other questions?” Looking around he receives no response. “All right, good. Corporate has given me an incentive check, so as your ‘incentive’ to win, there is a nice little bonus involved.”
“What’s going on in here?” Everybody freezes to the voice of Michael Scott. “You guys having a tea party?” He says looking at the box of knives.
“No, we’re playing a little game of,” Dwight looks side to side, “murder.”
“Okay, new rule,” Jim says abruptly, “Dwight can not use the word murder… ever.”
“Well sign me up!” Michael says snatching a knife from the box.
“Actually this was for the employees,” Jim says trying to take the knife back.
Michael suddenly takes a serious tone, “And what? Since I am now a member of corporate, I am no longer one of you? Is that what it is?”
Jim cringes, “Well it’s sort of for a bonus and the game could go on for weeks, and it really isn’t fair if you’re in New York and somebody is trying to kill you, and we only have enough knives for people in the office.”
“Marjorie isn’t here,” Dwight says quickly. “Michael can have her knife.”
“Not helping,” Jim breathes through gritted teeth.
“Jim’s just afraid because he knows I’m going to beat him,” Michael laughs. “Would you all look at that! Little Jimmy Halpert is afraid of being beat by his boss.”
Dwight’s the only one to laugh.
“Come on Little Jimmy Halpert! You afraid of the big bad boss coming along and reclaiming his office?” He continues to taunt.
Jim loosens his tie, “Actually I was thinking about your job in New York.”
“I will have this game packed, stacked, and out of here by 5 pm,” Michael says. “And that’s a promise.”
“The only reason I’m letting Michael play,” Jim begins to the cameras, “is that I’m pretty sure he’ll be the first one out.”
“I have a definite advantage,” Dwight tells the camera. Everyone in the office grabs a knife as Dwight steps off in the background watching everyone carefully. “I have years of experience as a Lackawanna County Volunteer Deputy Sheriff, you be the judge.”
“This is a game about killing people,” Angela argues. “Not just that, we’re being paid to do it. We are being encouraged to become hired hit men. It’s wrong and despicable.”
“I love mysteries,” Phyllis begins excitedly. From her desk she glances around the office and takes notes on a piece of paper. “I’ve always been a fan of those A&E mysteries like Detective Poirot so this should be really fun.”
Toby looks at the board and then back at his knife. “I have Michael,” he informs the camera. “This is turning out to be a pretty good day.”
Kevin grins widely, “We get to kill people,” he says with a chuckle. “I hope I get Angela.”
Jim Halpert’s name is written next to the number 7. Pam sits in the conference room interview with a huge grin plastered on her face. She holds up her knife and as the camera zooms in, the number 7 is written on it. “Somebody’s going down,” she says simply.
“I will not tell you who my victim is,” Dwight shakes his head. “A criminal never reveals his secrets.”
Dwight stares across the office with a maniacal grin directly at Ryan the temp’s desk. Ryan turns to grab a folder and sees Dwight in the corner of his eye. Dwight looks away inconspicuously, his grin still on his face as he glances towards Ryan again.
“Yeah,” Ryan nods, “Dwight definitely has me.” He pauses, staring off in horror. “And I am absolutely terrified.”
Ryan is in the kitchen making coffee. Over his shoulder Dwight is watching him through the blinds on the door. Slowly he lifts his hand with knife drawn. Ryan fills his mug slower than he needs to, waits for a long moment, and then heads back towards his desk. Dwight shakes his fist in defeat.
“Honestly?” Ryan begins. “I really could care less about this game. I’m on a different payroll than everyone else because I’m not an official employee so this bonus means absolutely nothing to me.”
Ryan walks past Kelly’s desk and she glares at him. He swallows thickly and keeps walking.
“Also, I have Kelly’s knife,” he explains, “and I rather not be in a room alone with her for obvious reasons.”
Michael sneaks behind the soda machine in the break room. Upon hearing someone enter, he peaks around the edge to see Phyllis walk in. Michael tells the cameraman to be quiet and then jumps out from behind the vending machine. “You’re dead!” He shouts.
Phyllis is startled a bit at first but then shakes her head. “No I’m not,” she says gesturing behind her. “The door is still open.”
“Well close the door then.”
She shakes her head again, “No, Michael.”
“Well you’re dead and we both know it,” Michael says. “So you might as well just give me your knife because if I can’t kill you now, you know I’ll just get you later. Come on Phyllis, let’s just save ourselves both the effort.”
“No, Michael,” she repeats. Phyllis removes her lunch from the toaster oven and leaves.
“When I play a game,” Michael informs the camera. “I play with my all. There’s none of that ‘Sorry little girl for pushing you over, I really wanted to score that goal.’” He shakes his head. “No. It’s ‘Get down and stay down, I’m going to win this thing with or without your help. And you’re a girl so you really shouldn’t be playing soccer.’” He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, I was usually on the bench. Some nonsense about hogging the ball. But how are you supposed to trust the other people on your team to win, when you know that you’re the only one who can do it?”
Frustrated Michael heads off into the kitchen where Toby is pouring a cup of coffee. The door swings closed behind Michael and when Toby sees that the door on the opposite side of the room is also closed, quickly reaches his hand into his pocket. “Um, Michael?” He says, stopping Michael on his trek to the other door.
“Yes, Toby?” He groans. “What do you want?”
“You’re dead,” Toby says holding up his knife.
Michael stares at Toby coldly and then towards the camera in the window. “Um, I don’t think that’s possible.”
“No, it is,” Toby refutes. “You even closed the door yourself.”
“Why are you even playing?” Michael questions vehemently.
“I work here?” Toby says carefully.
From Jim’s office, Michael and Toby stand before Jim declaring their case. “I’m sorry Michael, but you’re out of the game,” Jim shrugs. “There’s really nothing I can do.”
“Except admit I was right,” Michael says plainly.
“But the problem is that you weren’t right,” Jim explains. “And according to the rules, you’re dead now.”
“This is ridiculous,” Michael utters stalking out of the room.
Toby and Jim watch helplessly.
“I just think that it’s really unfair when people are obviously gunning for you,” Michael begins to the camera. “Jim and I used to be tight. And it’s a shame that office warfare has led to the demise of our friendship. It’s just a shame that now that I’m a part of corporate that they automatically gun for me.” Michael walks out of the office.
Dwight sits at Meredith’s desk and watches Ryan from over the computer monitor. Meredith stands above Dwight holding a stack of papers and clears her throat. Dwight stands up and apologizes.
Oscar looks across the office at Pam then sets his knife on his desk.
Stanley throws his knife in his drawer and gets back to work.
Jim stands in the doorway of his office, “Hey Dwight, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“In there?” Dwight questions.
“Yeah,” Jim nods.
“Alone?”
“Yes,” Jim continues to nod.
Jim takes a seat at his desk as Dwight enters. “Could you shut that behind you?”
“Why?” Dwight asks tightly.
“I do not have Dwight,” Jim confesses. “Sadly.”
“It gets breezy in here with the door open,” Jim explains. “Papers fly around, it’s crazy.”
“Why don’t you close the window then,” he suggests.
“Because then I can’t hear my car alarm if it goes off,” Jim counters.
“Good point,” Dwight nods. “Do you mind if I leave the door open a crack?”
“Yes.”
“All right then,” he says, the door latching behind him.
“Terrible Dwight,” Jim shakes his head. “That was terrible. Do you really expect to win this game using those tactics?”
“What do you mean?” Dwight says confused.
“I could have killed you three times already!” Jim declares. “Now get out of my office,” he narrows his eyes, “you make me sick.”
“I still haven’t ruled Jim out as a suspect,” Dwight says to the camera. “In fact, he’s now at the top of my list.”
Jim buzzes Pam, “I’m bored,” he says.
“Not even mass murder can entertain you?” Pam giggles. “Dwight is literally lurching above Ryan with his knife drawn.”
“You want to watch a movie?” He suggests.
“I’ll bring popcorn,” she says switching off the intercom.
From his desk, Creed butters a piece of bread with his murder weapon.
Stanley walks over to Dwight’s desk. “I had a question about one of the stock qualities,” he says. “Could you come look at it with me in the storage room?”
“Sure,” Dwight says.
“I don’t usually play games in the office,” Stanley informs the camera. “But this is for a bonus.”
“The paper is behind the door, do you mind if I close it?” Stanley says upon entering the storage room.
“Um, okay, yeah,” Dwight says oblivious.
“You’re dead,” Stanley says simply.
“Damnit,” Dwight says exiting the closet and throwing his arms in defeat.
Phyllis looks over at accounting watching the three carefully before jotting down a few notes. “I know that Toby has me now,” Phyllis says to the camera. “And then I think it’s Kelly after that.” She smiles widely, “It’s so exciting, isn’t it?”
Pam enters Jim’s office with a freshly popped bag of popcorn. “Should I close this?” She asks addressing the door.
“Yeah, sure,” he nods adjusting his monitor so it faces the sofa.
Pam gives the thumbs up to the camera as she closes the door behind her. “You’re not worried about me killing you?” She teases.
He laughs, “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh yeah?” She challenges.
“Yeah,” he matches her tone. “You need me.”
“Really?” She scoffs. “Are you asking me to be in an alliance?”
He puts his hands on his hips. “I don’t think you really have me,” he says.
“You want to test that theory?”
He presses his lips together, “No, I want the door open.”
“Too late,” she laughs blocking the door.
There’s a struggle by the door, and through the blinds the camera watches as Jim takes Pam from around the waist and turns them so he’s closer to the door. He lunges towards the knob, but is rendered incapable when Pam shrieks and tackles him onto the sofa. There’s silence then, and as the camera changes angles, catches Jim smothering Pam against the armrest of the sofa. Their lips dueling and hands frantically running over bodies. They jump apart and moments later Pam rushes out of the office and back to her desk. Jim follows shortly after and crosses his name off the murder board before stepping back into his office, the door closing quickly behind him.
Phyllis looks at Pam who gathers and shuffles papers as if there were a gun held to her head.
“Jim’s office?” Pam asks the camera stunned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kevin walks past Stanley suspiciously. He’s about to ask him something, when Stanley drones, “No.” Kevin walks away in defeat.
“I think Murder was a success,” Jim informs the cameras. “People are certainly going all out.”
Kelly follows Toby into the Men’s room.
“Some are taking the game more seriously than others.”
From the parking lot, Michael sits in his car still fuming. His knuckles are white wrapped around the steering wheel and “Drift Away” plays loudly from his stereo.
“I mean I lost,” Jim continues. “Which sucks. But I think things are going really well.”
Pam sits at her desk with her head in her hand and phone at her ear. “I don’t know, it happened again.” She swipes away a tear and shields her face again. “In his office just now.” She sighs, “I know, it just can’t right now. He’s in love with someone else.” She pauses for a moment, “I know.” Pam looks up to see the camera watching her and then turns away. “Look mom, I’ve got to go. Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”
From his office, Jim stares at the couch and presses his lips together. His phone rings and he answers it quickly. “Hey, Lise…” he frowns. “Yeah, things are great…”
“What am I doing?” Jim asks the camera. “I have no idea.”
Jim hangs up his phone as Dwight enters. “What do you think about you and me forming an alliance,” Dwight suggests.
Jim just looks to the camera dumbfounded.
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali