June had only begun a few days ago and already Michael was staring at his calendar. The put-upon manager of Dunder Mifflin Scranton was looking for a reason to party. In the office. There was always Father’s Day, he thought, but that would only apply to Stanley. Unless Creed had kids; he probably didn’t even know where they were since he was such a freaky weirdo. Michael, of course, conveniently forgot about Toby’s daughter Sasha, but that was probably for the best.
His eyes fell upon the first day of summer, June 21st.
“Yes! That’s perfect; we can have a little shrimp on the barbie and some frozen margs up on the roof.”
Rather delighted with his awesome party idea, Michael failed to realize he would basically be celebrating the beginning of the hottest and most grueling days of the year. Wanting to plan things a.s.a.p., he Googled the phrase “first day of summer” to find some ideas for the Party Planning Committee; they never had a clue about what people really wanted at a party. He always did all of the work for these office parties, he thought to himself; “why do I even have a PPC posse?”
The Google results intrigued Michael with all of their mentions of “summer solstice”. “What’s that mean, solstice? Isn’t that a kind of car?”
After sifting indiscriminately through the results from NASA, Wikipedia, and the like, Michael looked up “summer solstice” instead. One site popped out at him: http://www.religioustolerance.org/summer_solstice.htm.
“Perfect! I can combine the teachings of the world’s great religious guys with the fun of a par-tay! Let’s see, so this solstice thing happens twice a year...uh huh...ok...pagans? What?”
Now that he was truly confused, he yelled for his living encyclopedia/lackey, Dwight K. Schrute.
“Dwiiiight! What’s a pahgan?”
The self-appointed third-in-charge hollered back: “If you mean a paygan, that, Michael, is a man or woman who believes that nature is the embodiment of a larger spirit that controls life. They pray to trees and lakes and rocks and bears.”
Jim jumped right in. “And beets.” Dwight glared at his nemesis.
Furrowing his brow, Michael shouted, “Riiiiiight. That sounds crazy. I guess I can just ignore that stuff about paganism and make my party about getting tan and drinking a lot. Cool.”
“Wait, you’re having a party? What for?” Dwight asked.
Michael leapt out of his office and announced his party plans for the 21st. A collective groan filled the room.
Stanley spoke first. “Michael, why would we want to spend the longest day of the year entirely with our co-workers?”
“Because you care for them and Dunder-Mifflin makes up your extended family. The family that plays together stays together. Don’t you know that?”
In response, Stanley’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head.
*~*~*
Before Michael returned to his office to continue his party planning, Angela walked over to Dwight’s desk.
“Michael, I do not approve of this ridiculous idea of yours to have a party celebrating a debasement of religion. I refuse to help plan it.”
Dwight felt the need to educate the head of accounting on the significance of the day.
“Angela, it’s an astrologically based recognition of the day when the sun reaches its closest proximity to the earth. And the Druids celebrated it and built Stonehenge for it, so that’s pretty legitimate.”
Nodding along to Dwight’s lecture, Michael turned to Angela. “Ya, what he said. It’s all good. No devils will be there. Except maybe Packer.”
Angela raised an eyebrow and flared her nostrils at her lover.
“My ancestors never allowed paganism or witchery to be celebrated in their midst. I simply will not let it occur in my workplace!”
Pam piped up at this last statement.
“Angela, what do you mean ‘your ancestors’?”
The cool blond turned to reception. “My family lived in Salem during the witch trials. One of my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great...”
Everyone’s face fell as Angela continued to rattle off fifteen “greats”.
“...great-aunts was an accuser who identified dozens of witches and got them rightfully hung for their devil-worship.”
Pam and Jim’s eyes went wide and they looked to each other to make sure they had just heard Angela correctly.
“Why am I not surprised?” Pam muttered.
After staring disbelievingly at Angela for a moment, Jim shook his head and spoke. “How did she identify these Satanists?”
Dwight answered for his lady-love. “Jim, I’m kind of an expert on the topic of witches, so let me explain. After you were a vampire for a day, I thought that I should brush up on my supernatural hunting skills. I dug out my grossmutter’s copy of the Hammer of the Witches and it says that witches usually have familiars, demons pets that look like regular animals, like toads or cats.”
Pam choked back a laugh. “Angela, how many cats do you have again?”
Angela spun around and marched back to her desk to fume.
*~*~*
Going home for the night was a relief after the hour of party planning that had devolved into an argument about having the party on the roof or in the parking lot. Pam actually agreed with Angela for once and thought that the roof might be a bit dangerous if alcohol was going to be a part of the celebration. Meredith was not the most coordinated person when sober, so....
Arriving at her apartment, Pam went through the motions of a regular Thursday: making something for supper, changing into pj’s while her pasta boiled, and taking in a little 30 Rock and Grey’s Anatomy before bed. Annoyed by the plot twists that had popped up on Grey’s, Pam turned in early. While brushing her teeth, she thought about what Angela had shared with everyone that afternoon. The Beeslys had been in America for a long time; since the Mayflower Pam had been told. It was possible that they had lived near Salem all that time ago. With a laugh to herself, Pam curled up under the sheets of her queen size bed. As she snuggled into the soft cotton, she thought “God, Angela would have made an excellent Puritan.”
