Jim turned to look at the doorway, where Michael was directing a crew of three delivery guys with a very large box. "Good. Okay, little to the left... oh sorry--my left, your right."

"Whatcha got there, Michael?" Jim asked.

Michael turned and grinned widely, focusing on the camera, even while he answered Jim. "Oh, nothing. Just a little something to boost morale."

Jim and Pam exchanged a glance that said, "This will be an interesting day."

Once Michael had directed the delivery men into the conference room, he closed the door quickly and closed the blinds.

"What do you think he has?" Pam whispered to Jim.

Jim puckered his lips. "A live goat."

Pam chuckled at his answer, but still wondered at Michael's mystery.

"I'm sure we'll find out eventually," Karen muttered, irritated.

Before Pam could take another guess, Michael opened the door and exited, closing the door quickly behind him. "Pam," he said, leaning over her desk. "I need you to round up the crew. We have an important morale meeting in the conference room in..." he paused to look at his watch (a gift from Jan that he had been flaunting for almost a week now). "Three minutes."

Pam nodded. "And... what is the morale booster?"

Michael smiled and turned his head, hoping that the camera would catch him ( but it was actually in the kitchen with Kevin and Angela catching a debate about the poor conditions of dairy cows, particularly the ones used to make milk chocolate... like in M&Ms...). When he saw that the camera wasn't around, he turned back to Pam with his cheesy grin. "You'll just have to wait and find out. Oh, make sure Dale comes in here, too. We'll definitely need this on film!"

Pam bit her lips as she typed an inter-office memo and emailed it to the office staff.

Two and a half minutes later, Michael was physically rounding up the crew, stopping them mid-sales call and herding them into the door of the conference room (though he forbade anyone to open it, posting Dwight as the guard). Michael made his way through the crowd and reached for the handle.

"Michael, no one is to open this door," Diwght insisted.

"I told you that, idiot!" Michael said insistently, but Dwight still blocked his way.

"You told me that NO ONE was to open it--NO ONE includes you."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Quit being a moron and let me open the stupid door." When Michael finally go the door open, all eyes were on the large carboard box in the center of the conference room. The chairs and table had been moved aside, giving plenty of room around the box.

"Great employees of Dunder Mifflin Scranton, I give you..." Michael began dramatically. He then took out a pair of scissors from his pocket and ran it along the tape at the seam of the box. The top flaps popped up a little and Michael opened them dramatically, then ripped open the box, revealing a brown and electric blue foosball table.

"Oh... my... god..." Jim muttered. Pam stifled a giggle beside him.

"It's Game Day!" Michael announced, waving his arms.

"Yes!" Dwight exulted, making a fist and bringing it from above his head to his shoulder. "This is perfect! Foosball is a game of lightening-fast reflexes and extremely accurate hand-eye coordination. I will beat you ALL!"

Jim nodded, squishing his lips to one side. "So who plays first?"

"Ah, well... I thought that we would have a little... tournament. We'll have a men's tournament, and then a women's, and then a... a cross... gender tournament."

Jim raised his eyebrows at Michael's faux pas.

"I think the management team should go first," Michael stated.

"So... that's just you and me, Michael," Jim noted.

"Okay, well, then we can each choose one team member," Michael decided.

"Who will be referee?" Dwight asked.

"Ah, no one," Michael scoffed.

"Is this mandatory?" Angela asked.

"Ah, well, if you want a pleasant workplace it is!" Michael retorted.

Angela turned and left the room. Stanley followed, as did Karen.

"Someone has to be the referee, Michael," Dwight insisted. "What if there's a dispute?"

"Ok, fine--you be the reff!"

"But Michael," Dwight said in a soft, sad tone, "I'm your best choice for a team mate."

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically. "Uh, I don't know. Phyllis--Phyliis, will you be the reff?"

"Oh, sure, Michael," Phyllis said with a smile. "I'm not very good at these games but I sure do love watching!"

"Refereeing is much more than just watching Phyllis--it take a keen, sharp eye and instantaneous decision-making," Dwight cautioned.

"She'll be fine, Dwight, just... get over here. Which side do you want?"

"I want to be the goalie, Michael--unless you want it, of course."

"No, that's... that's fine. The middle sees more action, anyways." Michael looked to Jim. "So, who's your team-mate?"

"Hm," he mumbled, looking over his choices. Oscar, Kevin, Pam, Creed, Kelly, Meredith and Andy remained as possible choices.

"You know what, I'm... actually behind on my work," Oscar said, turning to leave.

"Ooh! Jim! Pick me! I'm SOOO good with my hands!" Kelly exclaimed.

"Thaaaat's what she said," Michael commented with a chuckle. Dwight high-fived him.

"Tough choice," Jim mumbled. He paused as he looked at Kevin. He was slow, but he may have played a lot in college... He then grinned as he decided on the most obvious choice. "Beesly."

"Wait, Jim--Michael said the men's tournement was first, and then the ladies," Dwight debated.

"Ah, but he didn't specify that when he told me to pick a team mate," Jim said.

"Oh, he's right! Drat!" Michael mumbled to himself, shaking his head. "Well, we'll just have to... deal with this. We're caught in a loophole--Pam can play. Oh, but who will answer the phones?"

Pam's face changed from a wide grin to a solemn frown. "Michael, I can forward them to Kelly until it's her turn, and then I'll take her customer service calls when it's her turn. Right, Kelly?"

"Oh, sure! Totally!" Kelly agreed.

"Fine," Michael gave in with a deep sigh. Kalley bounced out of the room as Pam left momentarily to forward the phones to Kelly's extension. When she returned, Dwight was doing strange finger stretches, while Michael was stretching his arms. Jim looked at Pam and gestured to the table, indicating that he was leaving the choice of placement up to her. She picked the non-goalie lines and stood at her post.

"Phyllis, please state the rules," Dwight instructed. Phyllis went on to recite the rules that Dwight had told her while the phones were being forwarded. Michael took the little white ball and pushed it through the hole in the side of the table.

The first game began.