Author's Chapter Notes:
More World Showcase fun...you in? Hey, me too! ;)
Andy: (in front of a classic English Georgian style building, a sign above reading The American Adventure; singing in a falsetto) A-meeer-i-ca, A-meeer-i-ca, God shed His grace on thee…
----
Pam: (near the water; nodding) We’re in the most exotic pavilion of all.
Jim: (smiling) Yes. America. What a learning experience this’ll be.
----
Andy: And crooown thy good with brooo-ther-hood…
----
Oscar: (standing against a tree; shrugs) I figured it was safe to return by now. What’d I miss? (He immediately holds up a hand. ) Never mind. I’m happier not knowing.
----
Andy: (arms spread wide) From sea to shiii-ning seeea! (He sighs, grinning widely.) Awesome.
----
Michael: (near a souvenir stand chock-full of red, white and blue paraphernalia) Yes, we are here in the American pavilion. It’s inspiring. Just as we can share in others’ cultures, others get the rare chance to experience ours as well. And I’m not ashamed to say, it’s the greatest nation on earth. (He turns his head; asks somewhat bitterly) Was that all right?
(The camera turns and shows Judy a few feet away. )
Judy: (taken off-guard) Um, yeah. Absolutely.
(The camera returns to Michael.)
Michael: We have such a long, complicated history compared to most nations, and I think—
(A bearded man in a “These Colors Don’t Run!” hat jumps behind Michael, pumping his fist.)
Man: U-S-A! U-S-A!
Michael: (looks confused momentarily, then grins.) Yes! All right! (He pumps his fist too.) U-S-A! U-S-A!
(The camera swings back to Judy, who blinks slowly as she watches them.)
----
“Okay,” Judy began, looking over her charges, “there’s a showing of ‘The American Adventure’ starting in ten minutes, so let’s head in. We’ll also be able to watch the Voices of Liberty singers, who are an amazing acapella group that perform before the show.”
“Yes,” Andy exclaimed. Judy shook her head firmly.
“No, Andy. You may not join them.”
“C’mon, Jude, I prepared for just such an opportunity – ‘when you wish up-’”
“Andy.”
There was that fierce whisper again, and Andy stopped, his finger suspended in midair where it had been pointing out invisible notes. He peered at Angela for backup, but her reprimanding gaze let him know how she felt about his performance. The camera caught a smirk from Dwight.
Effortlessly Judy transformed back into their friendly Disney guide. “Ready?” she asked everyone. She got a positive response and so spun on her heel to lead them in. She glanced at Kevin. “You can’t bring food or drink into the theater,” she told him.
Kevin looked down at the almost full Sam Adams he held and shrugged. “Okay.” He chugged the rest down. Judy glanced at the camera quickly before heading inside. Further back in the group Pam slapped Jim’s arm lightly and pointed to a quiet corner off to the left where a replica of the Liberty Bell resided, surrounded by patriotically colored flowers.
“It’s like a little piece of home right here,” she said.
“How about that,” Jim replied lightly. Pam turned to answer a question Phyllis had asked, and so missed the wide-eyed jim from her boyfriend for the camera’s benefit.
----
The show played out before them, starring a huge cast of audio-animatronic figures in scenes set at various times in American history. It concluded with a moving montage of some of America’s most beloved sons and daughters, from Walt Disney to Babe Ruth, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to the astronauts who lost their lives in the Challenger disaster. Scoring the tribute was a beautiful tune entitled “Golden Dream.” The camera swung from the screen to zoom in on Michael, who was – not surprisingly - weeping openly and loudly.
What was more surprising was that when the view shifted to a few seats further down the row, Jim was attempting to discreetly wipe a hand across his face and clear away a few tears of his own.
Pam, too, sniffled, and quickly looked to see if Jim had heard her. Not quickly enough Jim also turned his head, but away from her, and Pam’s previous sad expression was done away with so that a surprised, delighted smile had room to grow in its place.
----
Michael walked out of the theater, still blubbering. “It was so…so…bluh,” he finished, resorting to his usual noise he reserved for emotional times such as these. Dwight put an arm around him, looking concerned.
“Are you all right, Michael?” he asked tenderly.
Michael pressed a hand to his eyes and nodded, inhaling deeply through his nose. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just…just gimme a minute.” Dwight nodded and looked back to see Jim and Pam exiting behind them. Jim’s eyes found the camera and he immediately dipped his cap lower.
“Jim, as number two you should help comfort Michael,” Dwight told him.
Pam nodded quickly. “Yes, Jim, comfort Michael – I mean, you were cr—”
Jim shook his head and took Pam’s hand. “You can handle it, Dwight,” he said quickly, heading off down the sidewalk. Pam laughed.
“But Jim, tell Michael how—”
“We’ll see you guys in Japan,” Jim told Judy as they passed her, interrupting Pam.
“Oh, uh, okay,” Judy said.
“He’s pretty distraught,” Pam, still grinning, said over her shoulder as Jim pulled her off. Jim’s head ducked lower.
The camera moved back to Michael, who still had Dwight’s arm across his shoulders as he did some sort of deep breathing.
It then swung back to the miniature version of Philadelphia’s most famous landmark, looking a little lonely.
----
Michael: (leaning against a lamppost; his eyes are puffy and bloodshot but burning with alarming intensity) You know, that show really touched me. It made me think, and I think I’ve taken advantage of how great America really is. I think everyone has – the whole world. Well, I’m sick of us getting shoved around like some nerdy kid on the playground, the one whose mom made him wear full three-piece suits in fifth grade, while all the other guys got to wear bleached jeans, and t-shirts with baseball teams or Farrah Fawcett on them. That’s gotta stop. I’m gonna stand up for America, starting now.
----
Meredith and Kevin each took their cups of Kirin from a smiling cashier at the small kiosk in the Japan pavilion. Meredith bowed and Kevin did the same after a moment, a long, low belch escaping in the process. Meredith started drinking immediately but Kevin simply stood there.
“What’s the matter?” she asked after a long sip.
“Maybe I better take this one a li’l slower,” Kevin said, and a not-terribly-close examination of his face would reveal that the tour had indeed started to affect him. The slur didn’t help keep that a secret, either.
“But we’re only halfway through.”
“I know, I just…” He expelled a long sigh and then narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I should have some water. Jim didn’t think a lotta beer on a hot day was a great idea.”
Meredith gave him a look. “What does Jim know? Come on.”
“’kay,” Kevin said somewhat doubtfully and took a slug of Kirin.
----
Phyllis was looking a display of kimonos at the Mitsukoshi department store that took up a majority of the Japanese pavilion. She was pulling a red one adorned with pink peonies off a hanger when Angela walked up.
“What do you think?” Phyllis asked her, holding the kimono up under her chin. Angela’s eyebrow arched.
“It’s very…red. Kind of a trampy color,” she ruled. Phyllis’s lips made a hard line for a moment, but soon her expression softened.
“You’re probably right. Here,” she said, handing the garment to Angela. Phyllis purposefully raised her head and redirected her gaze over the petite blonde’s shoulder. Angela turned, too, and the camera revealed Dwight standing not ten feet away, ogling a rack full of samurai swords. The camera quickly moved back to Angela, whose face was beginning to match the kimono in color. Without a word she threw it back at Phyllis and stormed off. Phyllis' smile to the camera was triumphant.
A moment later Andy wandered up. “Hey Phyl. Great robe.”
Phyllis’s smile only grew. “Thanks, Andy.”
----
Phyllis: (outside, in front of a bright red torii gate; her eyebrows raised) I haven’t told a soul about what I saw after Toby’s party. Not even Bob Vance. (She smiles a little.) I know. That’s what matters.
----
“This is the only pavilion sponsored by the government of that country and not a corporation,” Judy explained as the group followed the wide sidewalk into the Morocco pavilion, passing the prayer tower that served as a welcome. “Morocco and the United States have a long relationship – in fact, when the United States declared their independence from Great Britain, Morocco was the first—”
An ear-splitting shriek silenced the guide. Kelly, the source of the sound, was bouncing and pointing frantically.
“Omigod, Aladdin and Jasmine! I have to go get a picture!” she proclaimed. “C’mon, Pam, come with me!” Before Pam could agree to come (or not), Kelly was yanking her off. “Bring the camera, baby!” Kelly called to Darryl, who sighed and followed.
“Is the Genie there, too?” Michael asked, hurrying after the three of them.
“Um…well, I guess my talk is over. Characters from Aladdin, as you may have heard, are over there,” Judy said, holding out an open hand in the direction a third of her group had gone in, “and I guess we’ll meet back here in twenty minutes.”
Everyone meandered away. Judy and Jim headed toward the characters slowly. “No smoke break?” Jim teased. Judy shook her head.
“The stress level’s low for now. Getting excited about characters is pretty commonplace. If Michael starts talking to Aladdin about jihads or something, though, well…that’s another story.”
Jim laughed as the pair passed a small shop called Medina Arts. As they did a tiny redheaded girl came charging out, ringing a handcrafted copper bell. “Mama, look!” she cried. Judy gave her a smile.
Jim’s face went blank. His mouth opened, but what he said was unclear as it was bleeped out.
----
Jim: (leaning against the wall; his hat is off and his hand is repeatedly running through his sweat-dampened hair, and he is speaking as if he can’t believe the words he himself is saying) I…forgot. I thought it’d be a sorta cute idea for today, kinda funny - asking her at a place that represented home, or almost home, in a park full of all sorts of foreign countries. But…we left the America pavilion so fast…I got embarrassed about being emotional at the show…it’s so stupid… I…forgot to do it. (His hand freezes in his hair and he stares as if dazed. A moment later his hand drops to his side and his hair is left resembling a bird’s nest. He shakes his head and slowly walks out of the shot.)
----
Kelly danced in place impatiently as the little boy in front of her finished getting Jasmine’s autograph. “That kid needs to hurry up,” Kelly said.
“He’s almost done,” Pam replied.
Kelly sighed happily. “I love Jasmine. She’s so hot, and dark-haired and dark-skinned like me. People used to call me Jasmine in high school, because I had this, like, super-long hair and wore really short shirts and stuff. I mean, Jasmine’s not Indian - she’s like Arabian, or whatever - but close enough. It was still awesome. Baby, do you think I look like Jasmine?” Kelly quizzed Darryl, leaning into him. He nodded.
“I can see a resemblance.”
Kelly smiled. “Am I hotter than Jasmine?”
Darryl laughed. “She’s a cartoon character.”
Kelly’s smile fell. “What does that mean?”
“It means she ain’t real.”
“So you’re saying she’s hotter than me? Are you checking her out?”
There was a long pause, during which Darryl stared at Kelly in utter disbelief and Pam sent a look to the camera that seemed to beg that it help her disappear. “Kelly, get it together,” he finally said.
Kelly moved away from Darryl and put a hand on her hip. “‘Get it together’? Are you serious, Darryl Philbin? Like I don’t have the right to be upset that you think another girl is hotter than your own girlfriend? I totally think I have every right to be pissed.”
Just then Jasmine, having sent the little boy bounding off, graced Kelly with a megawatt smile. “Hello!” she called out happily.
“Hey,” Kelly said haughtily, giving the princess a once-over as she and Pam joined her for a picture.
“You don’t want to be in the picture, too?” Jasmine asked Darryl as he turned on the camera.
“I’m cool; I’ll just snap it,” he assured her. Kelly, however, was now attempting to slay Jasmine with just a look.
“Look, that’s my man. Back off. You have that guy over there, so watch yourself,” Kelly growled in warning, jabbing a finger in the direction of Aladdin standing a few feet to the right. Pam shook her head slowly, looking even more desperate to melt into the floor.
“Um,” was all Jasmine could say. Darryl sighed and brought the camera to eye level.
“Smile, ladies.”
----
Kevin stood under a huge arch hidden along the winding path through the Moroccan buildings, leaning against the wall and sweating heavily. Oscar, carrying a shopping bag, stopped and studied his fellow accountant in concern.
“Kevin?”
Kevin lifted his head just enough to see who had addressed him. “H’oscar,” he managed.
Oscar’s brows met. “Are you okay, buddy?”
Kevin held up his almost empty cup of Casablanca beer. “Kindagetmego,” he mumbled, then dropped his head again.
Oscar watched him another long moment, then walked away.
----
“Will this be all for you, sir?” an older clerk at The Brass Bazaar asked as he rang up Michael’s small lamp that resembled one in which a genie might live.
“That’s it…Adib,” Michael responded, reading the clerk’s name tag.
“It is a lovely lamp,” Adib admired as he carefully wrapped it. Michael nodded.
“I thought so too. I’ll give it a good rub later.” A short pause. “That’s what she said.”
Surprisingly, Adib chuckled along with Michael. Once Michael had paid for his purchase he gave the man one last smile.
“Have a nice day.”
“You too, sir. Besslama.”
Michael peeked at the camera then bowed slightly. “And to you also. As well.” He strolled out of the store.
The view shifted to a far table, where Judy stood near an array of pottery. She was staring after Michael, and her face registered surprise – and for the first time, it appeared pleasant in nature.
----
Judy: (near the prayer tower) That was…something. I was afraid that after “The American Adventure” Michael would be a little uber-patriotic, and maybe Morocco might have been…challenging to that. But he did pretty well. (A long pause as her brow crinkles. ) Is putting “uber” in front of “patriotic” unpatriotic?
----
Judy smiled and held her arms wide; behind her was a vision of France from La Belle Epoque (“the beautiful time”). “Asking in advance for your pardon of my awful French, bienvenue en France!” she welcomed them. “There’s a movie here that we can catch a showing of in about five minutes, ‘Impressions de France,’ so let’s head in to the theater and check it out.”
“Ugh, really?” Michael said. Judy looked at him in confusion.
“You don’t want to see a movie about France?”
Michael shook his head adamantly. “No.”
“But France is one of the most beautiful countries in the world,” Pam said. Michael gave her a disparaging look.
“Way to stand up for the ol’ U.S. of A., Spamalot.” He stepped forward with great strides.
Judy bowed her head. “Oh God,” a keen listener would have heard her mutter.
Michael held his own head high. “France is a pimple on the face of the world – gross, smelly and rude,” he began loudly.
“Since when do pimples smell?” Pam asked Jim. He shrugged.
“Right after they got rude, apparently.”
“They hate Americans, guys…hate us. They hate our ways, and our…means. They hate our freedoms, and our zest for life.”
“Our joie de vivre?” Jim guessed innocently. Pam giggled as Michael nodded.
“Exactly. They hate us for our optimism; the way we see the world as a good, happy place.”
“Oh, you mean our vie en rose,” Jim clarified, wearing a classic jim. Pam clapped a hand over her mouth.
“What...?" Michael waved a hand. "Sure, yes.” He turned and spotted an aggravated cast member looking at him. “Oh, you can deny it, buddy, but I’m on to you – you won’t take my spirit, and you won’t take my fries!” he cried.
“Hear, hear!” Andy seconded.
The cast member grimaced. “Monsieur, I believe you are mistaken—”
Michael put a hand to his chest, looking amused. “I’m mistaken? No, no, I think I’ve got it all perfectly correct. Let me tell you a little something, Jean-Luc Picard—”
"Yeah!" Dwight cried, no doubt more excited by the reference than anything else.
But before Michael could really lay into "Jean-Luc," Judy grabbed his arm. “Know what? I misjudged the time. We actually need to get back to Germany for dinner,” she announced, literally pulling Michael off his feet and quickly walking in the opposite direction.
“But I—”
“Pooh. Pooh. A thousand times Pooh.”
----
Judy: (in a quiet smoking area in Germany; she takes a drag off her cigarette and shakes her head) I so should have seen that coming.
Chapter End Notes:
Sorry to any of you that may be French...you know Michael had to lose it at some point.
No bonus bits, just the ever-so-emphatic thank you to all of you taking this trip with me. Worth it so far? Do you hate me yet? ;)
No bonus bits, just the ever-so-emphatic thank you to all of you taking this trip with me. Worth it so far? Do you hate me yet? ;)
