Author's Chapter Notes:
Wrapping up our day at Epcot...
The Scranton branch stood in the waiting area of the Biergarten restaurant as they waited for their tables. Dwight looked around as he inhaled deeply.
“Smells like a fairly respectable buffet,” he mused on exhale.
“You can tell from here?” Pam asked.
“The Schrute sense of smell is highly advanced,” Dwight said distractedly. “I definitely pick up hints of both bayrischer kraut and rote beete salats – and the beets are amazingly fresh…frikadellen…gegrillter bratwurst, regensburger and kassler ripchen with sauerkraut…and could that be hausgemachte spaetzle?” he wondered, raising his eyebrows.
“Is there any other kind?” Pam questioned.
“Hausgemachte means homemade. There’s canned – clearly inferior,” Dwight replied, rolling his eyes.
“Clearly,” Jim repeated. Dwight eyed him.
“Do you know anything about anything German?”
“Ich bin ein Springfield Swap Meet patron,” Jim said seriously, eliciting another dirty look from Dwight. Pam smiled up at him, and he gave her a closed-mouth smile in return. Her brows furrowed a little. A moment later a smiling blonde approached the group.
“You all are the Scranton party, correct?” she asked.
“Dammit Pam! You forgot again?” Michael exclaimed.
“Yes, that’s us,” Oscar answered as Pam sent an apologetic shrug Michael’s way.
“Your tables are ready,” she informed them after sneaking a curious look at the regional manager. They started to follow as Andy looked around.
“Where’d Judy go?” He cupped a hand around his mouth. “Nah nah nah nah-nah-nah nah, nah-nah-nah nah, hey Jude!” he sang out loudly. Angela rolled her eyes and headed after the hostess.
----
Somehow a cameraman had made it past the ominous “Cast Members Only” sign to the backstage area of the restaurant and stealthily caught Judy approaching a man dressed in lederhosen and toting an accordion around his neck. After a tap on the shoulder he turned and smiled at her.
“I was wondering if I could make a request,” she said with a grin.
“Sure. What do you need?”
“I was wondering if you guys could do the Pennsylvania Polka when you go on in a few minutes.”
The man frowned slightly. “I think people really consider that more of a Polish number.”
Judy shrugged. “I don’t think people will care. Polka’s polka, right?” His face turned serious and, perhaps subconsciously, Judy took a step back. “The group I’m with is from Pennsylvania and they’d love it,” she added, trying another approach.
The man looked as if he were mentally debating a moral crisis, then finally nodded. “Okay. We’ll do it.”
Judy grinned, looking a little relieved. “Thanks so much,” she said appreciatively and went for the door. Spotting the camera, she first shook her finger at them in mock-reprimand, then put it to her lips and raised her eyebrows as she passed.
----
The large dining room was modeled after a German courtyard during Oktoberfest. Everyone had retrieved their food from the buffet and had started eating. Most noticeable was Dwight, who sat with three full plates of various German meat and potatoes dishes around him. Angela looked at it them disgust.
“That’s so much meat,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“That’s what she said,” Judy said absent-mindedly, then quickly looked up in alarm. Michael looked at her with new-found respect.
Dwight stared pointedly at Angela’s plate. “What did you get to eat?” he asked.
Angela glanced down at her pickled beet salad and started to blush. “I’m…not sure what it is,” she said, less haughtily than usual.
“I see,” Dwight replied, unconvinced. Further down the table Jim looked at Kevin.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Better in the air conditioning,” Kevin answered through a mouthful of pretzel bread, then nodded toward his plate full of other Bavarian carbohydrates. “Plus I’m gonna soak up some up the alcohol with this.”
Jim nodded. “Not a bad plan.” He looked to Meredith. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” she said lightly, taking a swig of her Hacker-Pschorr. “Why?”
“Just…curious.”
The lights dimmed some and spotlights illuminated the stage around which the branch sat. Several musicians, all dressed in traditional Bavarian costumes, walked onstage and picked up various instruments. The man Judy had spoken with earlier stepped up to the microphone. “Guten abend, meine freunde, und willkommen! Good evening, my friends, and welcome to the Biergarten, where it’s always Oktoberfest!” he greeted the audience enthusiastically, and received a warm round of applause. “My name is Peter, and behind me is Oktoberfest Musikanten. We’re here to perform for you tonight – if that sounds good, let’s hear a hearty ja, all right? On the count of three – eins, zwei, drei!”
“Ja!” the crowd replied, Dwight louder than anyone.
“Sehr gut!” Peter complimented them. “Now let’s start off with a little music – and not just any music, but German beer-drinking music! It doesn’t matter what you’re drinking; just lift your glass and sway along. Sound good?”
“Ja!” the crowd said again, this time led by Meredith, holding her stein high.
“Sehr gut! Let’s kick this off with—”
“Wasch und Plater!” Dwight called out. Peter looked down at him.
“Ah…”
“Wenn Ich Mit Der!” Dwight tried again.
“No…”
“Komman Mein Herz! Tausand Fasser Bier! Silberhochzeit!”
Peter shook his head. “It’s actually Hinum Herum,” he managed to reply.
“Not my favorite,” Dwight said, shaking his head. Peter watched him another moment, then collected his wits and struck up the band.
After a few more numbers, Peter smiled down at the Scranton branch first, then out at the rest of the diners. “Well, we have a special number up next, but first we’ll need a volunteer to share his best polka skills. Who’s willing to give it a shot?”
Immediately Dwight’s hand was in the air. Peter scanned the rest of the crowd, but seeing no other takers he attempted to widen his smile and pointed at Dwight. “All right, come on up, buddy.”
Dwight cheered, then went wide-eyed for a moment. His head snapped in Andy’s direction. “This is what’s next,” he told him.
Andy looked from Michael, who was munching on some apple strudel, to Dwight. “Really?”
“Really.”
Andy rose slowly, trying to look cool and collected. “All right. I’m ready.”
“Another volunteer?” Peter asked, smiling. “Well well…not how we usually do this, but we can roll with it. Are you two ready to polka?” He thrust the microphone in Andy’s face. Andy smiled winningly.
“I was born ready, Peter.”
“Gut! And how about you?” he asked Dwight, shifting the microphone.
“I’m a Schrute,” Dwight said, as if that explained everything. Peter waited a moment, but when he got nothing else he just shrugged.
“All right then, gentlemen, step up and take the stance with your partner,” he instructed, gesturing to the space in front of him. Andy scowled.
“Wait, what? We’re polkaing with each other?”
“Well, we usually only have one volunteer and we pair him or her with one of our dancers, but since you two are such close friends…why not?”
“We are not friends,” Dwight asserted, then stepped in front of Andy, “but I will dance with him.”
Andy gave him a look that said so much, and none of it was good. His eyes flitted again to Michael, who was wolf-whistling at the two of them. He swallowed hard and held his arms out. “Fine. I can do this,” he said, nodding.
The two men awkwardly got into position, struggling with who would serve as the lead. Finally Dwight won out, placing a firm hand against Andy’s waist and gripping his hand so tightly Andy’s skin turned white around Dwight’s fingers. “You better be ready to polka your ass off,” he said to Andy, staring him in the eye. Andy just glared back.
“Bring it, loser.”
“Now folks, our special request, and I want to see you clap along: the Pennsylvania Polka!”
“Oh yeah! That’s amazing!” Michael cried, looking tickled and already starting to clap. “How’d he know we were here?”
Judy shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know.”
The accordion began and so did Dwight and Andy – a hop with the right foot, a step forward with the left. Dwight landed hard on Andy’s foot, and after a “Dammit!” Andy reciprocated. Peter grinned as he began singing.
“Strike up the music, the band has begun –
The Pennsylvania Polka!”
“Ow!” Dwight howled as Andy kicked his shin.
“Pick out your partner and join in the fun –
The Pennsylvania Polka!”
“Cut it out!” Andy hissed as Dwight kneed him in the thigh.
“It started it Scranton, it’s now number one –
It’s bound to entertain ya!”
Everyone at the table cheered, even Jim and Pam. “We’re from there!” Michael announced proudly to other tables nearby.
“Everybody has a mania
To do the polka from Pennsylvania!”
Around and around Dwight and Andy twirled, in a horribly violent bastardization of a polka. Dwight viciously pinched Andy’s side. Andy punched him in the shoulder. Their feet were trampled countless times. Pam pulled her camera from her bag and started snapping pictures.
“Scrapbook?” Jim guessed.
Pam nodded as she took another photo. “Two page spread.”
A minute later the song ended, and the two featured dancers – sweaty, bruised and gasping for air - returned to the table accompanied by applause.
“That was awesome!” Michael said happily. “We heard the name of our city – our city! – and you guys got to dance onstage!”
“Thanks Michael,” Andy said, mopping his brow and smiling.
“I mean, you looked so gay!” Michael continued.
Dwight shot a look to Jim. “Who do you think won?” he asked quietly, leaning closer to his deskmate. Jim smiled.
“Everyone.”
----
Jim: (outside the Biergarten; looking impressed) With virtually no effort, that bandleader put to shame any prank I’ve ever pulled. That was truly phenomenal.
----
Andy: (in the same spot Jim had stood) Totally aced that one. (He rubs at his shin.) I need some ice. (He turns his head.) Hey Angie?
Angela: (off-screen) Get it yourself.
Andy: (shrugging) Guess she’s busy. She loves those Hummels.
----
Dwight: (in the same spot Jim and Andy had stood; cocky) Who won? Ist es nicht obvious? (A long pause, during which he loses some of his certainty.) It was me.
----
At the United Kingdom pavilion, a crowd was starting to gather in a large alcove near the Rose and Crown Pub. “Oh, the World Showcase Players are about to perform,” Judy said. “Let’s go check it out.”
“Who are they?” Michael asked as they walked toward the action.
“They’re an impr—impressive theater troupe,” Judy explained, catching herself. “They do little plays on the street with audience participation.”
Michael flashed a toothy smile at the camera. “Sounds like fun!”
The group joined the circle of tourists just as man dressed in Elizabethan garb started scanning the crowd. “’Who can I get to play my King Arthur?” he wondered in passable cockney. Michael immediately stepped forward and began “ah-hem”-ing loudly. The performer lingered over him momentarily before passing on to the man next to Michael. “You’ll do perfectly!” he crowed.
“That’s all right,” Stanley said, shaking his head. Michael looked disappointed for a beat, then grinned widely.
“Yes! Stanley the Manley!”
“No one else will do, sir,” the performer said, putting an arm around Stanley, who gave him a withering look.
“Come on, Stankley! Do it!” Michael cheered him on.
“I’d rather not,” Stanley said flatly.
“Who here wants to see Stanley as our wise and noble King?” the man asked the crowd, who cheered in response, Michael loudest of all. He turned back to Stanley. “Your people have spoken.”
With a long sigh Stanley followed the man to the wagon serving as a costume booth. A crown was quickly placed on his head and a scepter in his hand, neither of which did anything to eliminate the look of disinterest and irritation on Stanley’s face. Soon the man began trolling the audience again.
“I now need my lovely Lady Guinevere,” he announced, peering over the crowd. Finally he approached Phyllis. “How about you, milady?”
“Sure, why not?” she agreed, smiling.
Michael made a face. “Really? Not my first choice…”
Phyllis’ smile faltered for a moment, but was restored by the crowd’s applause. Michael finally shrugged and smiled into the camera.
“Guess I’ll play proud papa,” he said, holding up his camera and moving close as he dared to the “stars” of the show. “Phyl…Stankley…Stankley! Over here! Smile!”
Stanley sighed again and obliged in facing him, but his face held the same expression it always did when looking at Michael.
----
Meredith and Kevin stood in line at Yorkshire County Fish Shop. “How’re you feeling?” Meredith asked as they waited for the woman in front of them to collect her order. Kevin shrugged.
“Better…I guess.”
“You’re not gonna quit on me, are you?”
Kevin glanced over his shoulder at Judy, laughing at the street show. “Nope.”
“Awesome.”
The woman left and Meredith and Kevin stepped up to the window. “Two pints of…Bass, please,” Meredith ordered, reading the menu. The clerk nodded and a minute later passed two large cups of amber ale to the duo.
“Thanks…mate,” Kevin said, smiling at him. He gave him a confused half-smile in return.
----
The cameraman shot Jim from quite a distance, no doubt knowing that whatever he captured could easily be matched with audio caught by the mikes the branch members had had to wear for the trip. He stood alone in the quiet English garden, slouching against a stone wall and staring blankly ahead. Pam approached him from the side, unnoticed.
“Hey,” she said gently. He looked over at her slowly and gave her a soft smile.
“Hey yourself.”
“I was wondering where you went – you’re missing out on Stanley and Phyllis in the spotlight.” Just then a final burst of applause sounded from across the walk, signaling the end of the show. “Now you’ve officially missed it,” she corrected, smiling.
“I’m sure Michael took enough pictures for an entire scrapbook,” he said. Pam frowned lightly and stepped in front of him.
“Is everything okay?” she asked in concern, resting a hand on each side of his waist and leaning in some. He nodded.
“Yeah. I just needed a quiet moment…”
“…Alone?” she guessed, the tone of her voice hard to decipher. He gave a noncommittal shrug. “I can leave if you want.”
Jim shook his head. “No. Of course not.”
Pam smiled a little. “Good, ‘cause I didn’t really want to,” she teased. He finally gave her a genuine smile and she went up on her tiptoes, tipping her chin upwards. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her softly. After pulling away he rubbed her arms lightly.
“I’m fine. I promise.”
Pam wore the look of a woman not quite convinced, but nodded anyway. “Okay. Just making sure.”
“Guys?” The address came from Judy, who had just rounded the corner. “We’re gonna head into Canada now. Just wanted to let you know.” She gave them a quick smile and turned to leave. Pam looked at Jim.
“Go or stay?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. Jim’s hands slid down her arms and he took her hands.
“I’m ready for Canada, eh?”
Pam laughed, letting go of one of his hands as they began their walk. “You are, eh?” she asked in response.
“I am…eh?”
As they left the garden Pam squeezed his hand, swinging it some. “I love you,” she said, glancing at him. Jim grinned back at her.
“Love you too…eh?”
----
Judy held her arms wide as the group entered the Canada pavilion, the final one in the World Showcase. “Welcome to our neighbor to the north,” she said. “Now I know it isn’t too far of a drive for you all to get to Canada – just out of curiosity, how many have you been there before?”
All hands went up, save one belonging to Michael. When he noticed that, he put one up as well, albeit uncertainly. Judy’s eyebrows rose some.
“Wow…okay, well, are you guys interested in poking around here?” A general silence was the reply. Michael looked as if he were about to say something, but upon noticing the others were remaining silent he just folded his arms. Judy shrugged. “All right. Well, before the fireworks we have one last attraction I was saving back in Future World. Are you guys ready for Mission: SPACE?”
She was met with a much more enthusiastic response, so she started for the walkway back to Future World.
----
Judy: (near the water) It’s really no skin off my nose. Maybe it’s just because I grew up so close to the Canadian border, and I’m sure anyone who knows Europe well could say the same about any of the other pavilions, but I always felt Canada here was sort of…lacking. Like, everyone in lumberjack shirts…? (She arches an eyebrow. ) Don’t tell anyone that works here I said that.
----
Michael: (on a bench) I would have liked to poke around in Canada, but I’m a giver. My employees wanted to leave, and I gave them that opportunity. (He cocks his head to the side. ) Plus Jim said they spoke French there, and if they sleep with the enemy like that, maybe it is best I stay away. (He shakes his head.) That’s so sad…after all the help they – as the north – provided in the Civil War…
----
Pam: (next to a huge totem pole) I was excited to see Canada…until Judy told me the booth that sold the beaver tails closed. That’s such a disappointment. I love beaver tails.
Jim: (jimming) That’s what she said?
Pam: (nodding) Yes she did.
----
Creed: (perched on the “rocks” making up the waterfall in the center of the Canadian pavilion) I think I’m just gonna camp here for the night. Be one with nature.
----
In front of a futuristic building decorated with huge metallic renditions of Earth, Mars and the moon, Judy looked at her charges in earnest. “Okay, guys, I saved the most intense for last. This is Mission: SPACE. This is the most technologically advanced attraction ever created by Disney. It’s basically a simulated space adventure - from liftoff to the sensations of traveling though outer space, this is the real deal. Walt Disney Imagineering worked with former NASA advisors, astronauts and scientists to develop Mission: SPACE as the first ride system ever created to take guests straight up in simulated flight." She raised her eyebrows. “And I’m not going to mince words, it can be very…well, let’s just say that those at all prone to motion sickness should stay away.” She cast an apologetic look Pam’s way. Pam shrugged and Jim squeezed her shoulder.
“I’ll hang back with you, Pam,” Phyllis volunteered. Pam shook her head.
“That’s okay, Phyllis.”
“No really, I don’t mind…I don’t think that German food agreed with me,” Phyllis said, rubbing her stomach. Dwight gave her a smug look.
“Weak constitution,” he spat at her, then stepped forward. “What about the stronger of us?” he asked Judy.
“Well, there are two versions of the ride to choose from. If you’re at all nervous about riding, opt for the line on the right – it’s the same experience, but less intense. For you daring souls that want to chance it, take the line to the left. Okay?”
The group divided – Angela and Kelly joined Phyllis and Pam, and Stanley and Andy opted for the tamer version. The rest headed into the other queue. Judy shot a worried look at Kevin, who was chugging the remainder of his Labatts before entering the building. “Are you sure you want to ride this version, Kevin?” she asked.
“Why not?”
“Well, that for one,” she answered, nodding toward his now-empty cup, “not to mention all the other ones you’ve had this afternoon.”
“I’ll b’fine,” he assured her. Judy made a face.
“Kevin, really, I think…”
“Judy, you’ve gotta lemme live my life,” he said seriously. “I’m a rolling stone.”
Judy just stared after him as he shuffled inside.
----
The “braver” riders made their way down the hallway that served as an exit. First came Dwight, Jim, Judy and Darryl. Judy was smiling. Dwight appeared absolutely exhilarated. Jim and Darryl shared a high-five, then Jim flashed an enthusiastic, quite nerdy double thumbs up at the camera.
The second group of riders was another story.
Oscar wore a slightly dazed expression. Michael looked extremely green around the gills and walked slowly. Kevin stumbled, grabbing aimlessly at the wall. At the first trash can he saw he bent in half, retching. At the sound, Michael groaned and made a run for the next trash can.
Only Meredith looked completely unaffected. Spying her coworkers at opposite trash cans she sighed and shook her head. “Amateurs,” she muttered.
----
Kevin: (leaning against a wall in the exit hallway; pasty white) That was rough. (His eyes widen and he dashes out of the shot.)
----
As the rest of the group assembled on benches and against the railings around the World Showcase Lagoon for that night’s “IllumiNations: Reflections of Earth” fireworks show, it was obvious Michael was missing. The shot wandered until it lit on the regional manager hiding unsuccessfully behind a tree. He was pulling his cell phone from his pocket. After dialing, he took a seat on the grass.
“Hey!”
“Oh not much, just waiting for the fireworks to start and I thought I’d call you.”
“We’re having a great time…learning, laughing, growing as a family. You know how we do.”
“Yeah, tomorrow’s our last day. Kinda sad.”
“Yep yep. But enough about me. How are you?”
“Really?”
“Well how are you feeling? Any puking?”
“Good.”
Michael smiled lightly. “Yeah, I, ah…I miss you too, Jan…”
Chapter End Notes:
No offense, Canadians - your REAL country is amazing and lovely, but I have always felt you were short-changed when it came to your pavilion at Epcot.
If by some chance you DON'T know the Pennsylvania Polka - and as a Polish chick I can't fathom that - you can check it out here. Also, while it is just funny (to me, anyway), to imagine Dwight spouting off all those German foods, here is the translated menu for the Biergarten.
As my hubby is on midnights this week, updates will be showing up at odd hours. Even if only out of pity for me sitting up all alone all night, say hello. :)
If by some chance you DON'T know the Pennsylvania Polka - and as a Polish chick I can't fathom that - you can check it out here. Also, while it is just funny (to me, anyway), to imagine Dwight spouting off all those German foods, here is the translated menu for the Biergarten.
As my hubby is on midnights this week, updates will be showing up at odd hours. Even if only out of pity for me sitting up all alone all night, say hello. :)
