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Author's Chapter Notes:
A long chapter to finish up our day at Disney Studios...
Ten minutes later Michael and Judy sat completely alone on a bench near Dinosaur Gertie’s Ice Cream of Extinction. The rest of the Scranton branch had split almost evenly in two – Jim had led an interested group to check out the Indiana Jones Epic Stunt Spectacular; Dwight had ordered a handful of others to see the Lights, Motors, Action! Extreme Stunt Show. They had all gone willingly, but the looks on their faces had betrayed their curiosity about the unnamed, yet probably more action-packed, showdown that was about to take place between their boss and their tour guide. Kevin had even attempted to take a few bets as he followed Jim. He stopped when it was clear no one would place money on Michael.

The two leaders were quiet, and the scene was as serious as it could be with a smiling green Apatosaurus as a backdrop. “How’s your ice cream?” Judy finally asked, nodding toward the giant waffle cone Michael held. He jumped a little at the sound of her voice, but then nodded too.

“Good.” A beat passed. “Thank you for asking. And buying it.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was another silence, during which Michael only made eye contact with the camera and Judy twirled her Zippo between her index and middle fingers. She took a deep breath and looked at the regional manager as he took a large mouthful of chocolate ice cream.

“Michael, I…” Judy began, then shook her head slightly. “I can tell you’re a man that really loves your job.”

Michael looked surprised that this was her first real statement, but he quickly swallowed and nodded. “I do, yes.”

“And I can also see how much you love all of your employees.”

“That is also true.”

“I mean, the work you must have gone through to get this trip for them? That couldn’t have been easy – Disney isn’t a company that makes deals like this, you know.”

He glanced at her. “Really?”

“Really,” she assured him.

Michael shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, Judy, I’ve had years of experience with tough customers-” (at this Judy’s eyes darted toward the camera for just an instant but she didn’t interrupt) “-and I’ve heard myself referred to as a master of sales more than once. I was Dunder Mifflin’s Salesman of the Year two years running.”

“That sounds like quite an achievement,” Judy replied genuinely. Michael raised his eyebrows.

“Yes it is,” he said, just as genuinely.

Judy took a moment to consider her next words. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I really love my job too.”

“Well…” he trailed off.

“No, Michael, I really do. And by getting involved with your employees – talking with them, laughing with them – I’m just trying to make sure they get the most out of this trip. The trip that you earned them. That’s my job. I’m not trying to take them away from you.”

Michael snorted, which resulted in a moment or two of spluttering as he cleared the ice cream from his nasal passages. Judy patiently clapped him on the back. When all was well again he shrugged.

“Well, you could never take them away from me, so I’m not worried about that. You just feel a little desperate sometimes, Judy, and that…wow, that gets really irritating. As a leader myself I’m just trying to give you some constructive feedback here.”

Judy’s lips parted a little but she forced them shut. After a pause she gave him a somber, “I’ll keep that in mind.” They were quiet another minute. “But I have to give you some as well.” Michael’s face registered dubious but she continued. “This place? It’s kind of like my office. Granted I’m a low woman on the pole-” (she paused just to allow the “That’s what she said” she knew was unavoidable) “-but while you all are here – in my office – I have to tell you when your behavior is inappropriate. And Michael,” she breathed, waiting for him to look her in the eye, “what you and Dwight did today was so inappropriate.”

Michael pursed his lips. “But I saw that…man, not four hours ago, stand up out of his chair-”

But he stopped as he saw Judy shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. Not even a little. You can’t talk to other guests like that.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “And if you want to consider me the bad guy that’s fine. But honestly, if you all weren’t with me, you would have been escorted out of the park. That’s that.”

“That seems harsh,” Michael criticized through a mouthful of ice cream and cone. Judy shrugged.

“Those are the rules. And as leaders, aren’t we both supposed to make sure rules are followed?”

Michael pondered that, no doubt considering all the proud times in the past he had rebelled. “I suppose,” he granted.

Judy put on a smile. “I think it’s…valiant you want things fair for everyone, really. But don’t worry about it. The policies set up here are just there to make sure everyone gets to enjoy as much as they possibly can. Just focus on making sure you and your employees have a great time, and I’ll do the same…we couldn’t possibly go wrong if we try to stick to doing that, right?”

Michael nodded thoughtfully. “Absofruitly.”

“Good.” Judy stood and held out her hand. “Can we call a truce then?” she requested. Michael glanced at the camera, then shook her hand.

“Glad we could fleece it out,” he said in earnest. Judy blinked, but kept her grin.

“Me too.”

----

Michael: (still in front of the dinosaur; wearing a knowing look) Yeah, I agreed to a truce with Judy. It was almost sad to see her gravel like that, but maybe now she’ll lay off a little.

----

Judy: (leaning against the fence surrounding Echo Lake; her head cocked) I hope that helps some. I tried to appeal to him on his level. (She smiles just a little. ) I gave a variation of the same speech to the eighth grade kids I had here last week. It worked pretty well for them, so…

----

Jim and Pam brought up the rear as their group exited the theater following the Indiana Jones show.

“Jim, check it out!” Jim looked to the source of the address and found Kevin standing near an old army truck that was serving as a souvenir stand, pointing at some of Indy’s trademark fedoras. “These are awesome.”

“Those are cool, Kev,” Jim answered, but it was Pam that had veered off toward the truck first. She plucked one of the hats from the shelf and plopped it on Jim’s head when he joined them.

“Am I a bad ass now?” he joked. Pam gave him a very approving smile. He pulled off the fedora and checked the price tag. “It’s forty bucks,” he informed her, raising his eyebrows and starting to put it back. Pam snatched it out of his hand and handed it to the cashier. “What are you doing?” Jim asked, smiling.

You’re getting the hat.”

“I’ve already bought two hats.”

Pam smiled again. It was her rare half open-mouthed, eyebrows raised grin, usually reserved for much more exciting events than purchasing an overpriced hat. “But they aren’t this hat.”

“Forty bucks…?”

“It’s worth it. Trust me,” Pam said as she nodded, still smiling and widening her eyes a little. Jim gave the camera a surprised jim, a deceptive blush rising to his cheeks, then pulled out his wallet.

Kevin watched them before turning to cashier. “Do you guys have any bigger sizes?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

----

Pam: (standing at the truck; her cheeks are a little pink as well) It’s a good hat. Don’t you think? (Her smile widens. )

----

The entire Scranton branch reconvened in front of the reproduction of Mann’s Chinese Theater mid-park, where they hopped on the Great Movie Ride. Afterward Michael spent an inordinate amount of time attempting to fit his hands exactly into impressions made by celebrities, dismayed that the closest he came to matching was with Christie Brinkley and not Samuel L. Jackson, as he had hoped. Judy finally suggested they head toward the restaurant at which they had reservations.

“Good choice of place for dinner,” Judy complimented as they walked toward the 50’s Prime Time Café. Michael stared at her blankly, then nodded.

“…Yes. Thank you,” he replied before speeding his pace to catch up with Darryl and Kelly. Judy looked toward Pam, who nodded.

“I thought it looked fun,” Pam said. Judy now nodded. They made it to the diner and were quickly shown to a long table. Soon a waitress was upon them – a young woman in an old-fashioned uniform, her hair done up in an elaborate 50’s ‘do and a nametag reading Aunt Kat.

“Howdy kids,” she greeted, snapping a piece of gum as she smiled at the table. “Glad you could make it for dinner. You all washed your hands before you got to the table, I hope?” When she got virtually no response she frowned. “You know better than that. I’ll take your drink orders, but then I insist you all get to the washroom.”

“What a bee-yotch,” Michael muttered as “Aunt” Kat started collecting orders at the far end of the table.

“That’s her job,” Judy said. “Have you ever been to Ed Debevic’s in Chicago?” Michael shook his head. “Okay, well…this is supposed to be set in the 1950’s, and all the waitstaff treat you as if they’re a bossy relative.”

Michael shot a look at Pam. “Great choice,” he told her sarcastically. Pam merely shrugged.

From the other end of the table Kat was laughing from her spot next to Meredith. “I’m afraid Dad doesn’t let a full glass of straight gin out of his liquor cabinet.”

Meredith sighed. “Fine. Which of these fancy drinks has the most alcohol in it?”

Without missing a beat Kat replied, “I’ve found you can never go wrong with Grandma’s Picnic Punch.”

“I’ll have three of those then.”

Kat let out a low whistle but moved on to Oscar, making a snappy remark about his bright orange shirt. Rather than get offended Oscar chuckled, which put an irritated look on Michael’s face. It happened repeatedly as Kat made her way down the table, Michael growing increasingly agitated. By the time Kat reached him he was scowling openly. “What’ll it be, Pops?”

“I’m not a ‘Pops,’” he told her.

“Daddy-O?” she tried, grinning.

“I prefer Mr. Scott.”

“And I prefer Empress, but you can’t always get what you want,” she chirped, snapping her gum. Michael slammed shut his menu.

“Diet Pepsi.”

“Diet Coke it is,” Kat replied, making a note and strolling away. Judy laid a hand on Michael’s arm. He snatched it away.

“Thanks for keeping your cool,” she said, undaunted.

Before Michael could reply a high whistle cut through the noise of the restaurant. “Okay, Prime Time Café patrons!” a young man with slicked-back hair announced. “We’ve got a special group with us – the Brighton Woods High School Spartan Singers are here tonight and they agreed to grace us with a little ditty. Would you like to hear them?”

A cheer erupted and Andy sprung up from his seat. “Yes!” he cried, then squeezed Angela’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go sing with them; they’ll love it,” he told her as he squeezed his way past the table.

“I’m sure,” Angela said quietly.

Andy took a spot in the group of singers, turning to their sponsor and offering his hand. “Andy Bernard. Cornell alum. Leader and featured falsetto of the award winning vocal group Here Comes Treble,” he introduced himself. The man was too stunned to respond. Andy then smiled at the rest of the group. “Let’s do this, guys!” He eyed a blonde next to him. “Does your name happen to be Jamie?” he asked quietly.

----

Andy: (sitting on a bench outside the restaurant; smothering frustration) Well, despite the fact that I myself had performed the number they were about to do countless times, and I told them this, I was not welcomed into the group. But perseverance is the Andrew Bernard way, not to mention a trait I know a certain regional manager really admires, so I stuck around. (He nods. ) They kindly asked me to leave the restaurant. (He drums his hands against his knees. ) Not the result I expected.

----

The group had moved on to their final attraction at the park – the much-anticipated (for one receptionist, anyway), Magic of Disney Animation. After a fifteen minute presentation by a Disney cast member on how some of the beloved characters in Disney films are developed, they were let out into a huge concourse where there were several activities from which to choose. With no hesitation Pam took Jim’s hand and pulled him off toward the alcove labeled Animation Academy. Dwight watched them and approached Andy.

“The time for our second challenge has arrived,” he told him in a conspiratorial tone. Andy looked at Dwight in confusion.

“I thought that Jedi thing was our second challenge.”

“Well it was, but Judy…Michael changed it. It’s been stricken from the records.”

“Oh. Okay. So we’re having a draw-off?” Andy asked good-naturedly as they began walking.

“Yes.”

“Cool. I used to doodle a lot at Cornell while my professors yakkity-yakked up front.”

“Fascinating,” Dwight responded sarcastically.

Angela followed behind them, watching the interaction with interest. She smiled at Dwight’s retort, but when she caught the camera watching she banished the expression immediately.

Soon a small Hispanic man let them into the art space with a smile. Pam and Jim, as any students who know they’ll be chattering do, took seats in the back. Andy and Angela found seats in a middle row and Andy pointed the extra seat next to him out to Dwight, but he was already striding confidently toward the front row.

Andy smiled at Angela. “I’m totally going to take this one,” he assured her. She gave him a nod.

“Good.”

Andy’s next remark was cut short by a long thin object making direct contact with his temple. “Ah! What the…” He looked toward Dwight, who was smirking. “What the hell?”

“It’s a Sharpie. To finalize your drawing.”

“Did you have to throw it?”

“Yes.”

Andy shook his head. The instructor stepped up to the podium, introduced himself as Eduardo, and informed his forty or so students that today’s character was Winnie the Pooh. Dwight found the camera.

“Excellent,” he pronounced quietly, smiling wider. “A bear.”

Eduardo began explaining the first step with the help of an overhead projection. Pam dutifully picked up her pencil, but frowned at her boyfriend who hadn’t done the same. “You’re not drawing?” she asked as she drew the horizontal and vertical guidelines as Eduardo did the same up front. Jim shook his head as he rested it against his hand. “Why?”

“I’d rather watch you,” he said simply, smiling. “Consider me your assistant arteest.”

Pam just smiled as she sketched a circle. All was more or less quiet as Eduardo led his class. Toward the end he began strolling around, giving help and complimenting sketches. He stopped at Dwight’s desk and his eyes widened.

“Wow,” he finally remarked. “Extra points for creativity.”

Dwight nodded knowingly. The camera captured Andy scowling as it moved closer to Dwight, but as they neared he slapped his hand over his paper. “Not til the end,” he said brusquely.

Ten minutes later Eduardo said his goodbyes and the new artists exited with their extremely rare free Disney souvenirs. Dwight and Andy met in the aisle, keeping their drawings hidden from each other. “So…how is this being decided?” Andy questioned. “By Michael?”

“No,” Dwight answered quickly, then nodded toward Jim, where he was still seated with Pam. “Our immediate superior will be the judge.”

Angela’s face was doubtful. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked. “Jim doesn’t like y--…doesn’t like extra responsibility,” she finished, somewhat lamely. Dwight nodded.

“It’ll be fine.”

The two men, Angela in tow, approached Jim and Pam. “See. I can’t put my scribbles on paper when you’re next to me drawing like that.” Pam shrugged as Jim looked up. “What’s up?” he asked, already looking amused.

“We need you to decide which of us has the better drawing,” Andy told him.

“We can put both on the fridge, guys, there’s enough room,” Jim said, smirking at the camera.

“Just decide, Jim,” Dwight instructed.

“Are you sure Pam shouldn’t judge? She is an…artist,” Angela attempted again, nervously.

“Pam can be the tiebreaker,” Dwight said.

Jim’s brows met. “How could there be a tie if only I’m voting?”

“Then she can…offer her expert opinion. If there’s a discrepancy,” Dwight reworded.

“No discrepancy possible if I’m the only judge,” Jim pointed out.

“I’ll help if you need it, okay Jim?” Pam put forward cheerfully. Jim nodded, his eyes matching hers twinkle for twinkle.

“Okay, let’s see ‘em.” Andy held up his drawing first. Jim studied it critically. It was a perfectly serviceable Winnie the Pooh. “Not bad, not bad,” Jim ruled. Andy looked proud. Jim looked to Dwight. “Okay, Dwight. Your submission please.”

Dwight produced his sheet of paper. Jim immediately clamped his hand over his mouth, then molded the reaction into a thoughtful gesture, taking his elbow with his other hand as he squinted at the drawing. Pam simply bit her lips with a force that turned the surrounding skin white. Andy started chuckling. Angela appeared to be a mix of stunned and possibly impressed.

To say Dwight had taken artistic license was an understatement. This Pooh was a Pooh in head shape only. From there the friendly eyebrows had been exchanged for angry ones. His nose, usually rounded and soft-looking, sported flaring nostrils. However, the most noticeable change was undoubtedly Pooh’s mouth. Where a sweet smile normally resided there was instead a set of sharp, realistic fangs, clamped around what appeared to be a dead salmon, all captured in sure, swift strokes of black Sharpie.

“Hmm,” Jim provided, clearly not trusting his voice with anything more complex.

“Tuna, come on. What is there to think about? That looks nothing like Winnie the Pooh,” Andy said.

“Shut up,” Dwight spat.

“Dwight, Andy, Jim is the judge. Don’t disrupt him while he’s…judging,” Pam chided them gently, her voice almost completely free of a quiver of laughter.

Jim heaved a deep breath. “Thank you, Pam,” he said from behind his hand, not bringing himself to look at her. Finally he folded his hands in front of him.

“I proclaim the winner of this contest to be…Dwight,” Jim declared somberly. Dwight joyously pumped his fist.

Yeah!”

What?!” Andy exploded at the same moment. “Tuna, are you kidding me?!”

“No, Andy. I kid you not.”

“But Winnie the Pooh eats honey, and is cute…his looks like some crazy devil bear,” Andy spluttered.

“I agree with Jim’s decision,” Pam said. “While Andy recreated the traditional Winnie the Pooh fairly accurately, Dwight took the Pooh concept to another level. It carries a touch of surrealism, and…Dadaism. And cubism.”

“…What?” Andy finally managed, his eyes slits.

Jim looked at her so lovingly that Pam started blushing. “I agree, Pam. Thank you for your expert opinion.”

“Yes. Thank you, Pam. And Jim,” Dwight said, then pulled a red Sharpie from his back pocket. “Jim, can you make a note of my winning status here?”

“Gladly,” Jim accepted, taking Dwight’s drawing and the marker. Andy stormed out of the room. After one last glance at the victor, Angela followed her fiancé.

----

Dwight: (outside the amphitheater for Fantasmic!, Hollywood Studios' nighttime spectacular; still grinning like a champion) We are now tied. A tie is only a point away from being in the lead. And believe me, I plan on scoring that next point. I—

(Dwight stops short as he looks to his left. Angela is standing there watching him, tugging at her ponytail and smiling. When she sees that the camera has focused on her, she jumps and hurries into the arena. Dwight turns back to the camera and his smile, though it seems impossible, stretches even further. )

----

The seats from which they watched Fantasmic! were fantastic – they were in the middle of the outdoor amphitheater and only ten rows from the front. Currently Sorcerer Mickey stood at the top of the manmade rocky outcropping, magically sending huge showers of sparks into the air. The camera turned to catch Pam snuggling into Jim’s shoulder, looking up at him with love and perhaps a bit of expectation. He kept his eyes on the show as he smiled back. Although the dark and music obscured the scene somewhat, the small heave her body gave as she turned back to the show made her sigh and twinge of disappointment unmistakable.

A row behind them Kevin leaned over to Phyllis. “Can I switch seats with you?” he asked over the noise. Phyllis looked at him strangely but stood, and the two awkwardly shuffled around each other. Kevin sat back down, then fished in his shopping bag. He pulled out his fedora and put it on, then smiled at Judy, who was now to his immediate right. She gave him a smile back.

“Hi,” Kevin said.

“Hi,” she answered. Kevin continued watching her. Her eyebrows knitted together a little as she broke his intent gaze and turned back to the show. Kevin didn’t do the same, which it was obvious Judy noticed in her periphery. She glanced at the camera briefly as she joined the crowd in a burst of applause.

----

Long after the amphitheater emptied, one lone soul was visible at the very bottom of the seats, tucked away in a corner. The cherry of whatever he was smoking glowed on an inhale. A custodian approached him.

“Sir, you need to leave – and you definitely can’t smoke in here,” he said.

“No worries, my friend,” Creed said breezily, taking another hit. “I’ve got plenty to share.” The custodian took a long look around, spotting the camera. “They’re cool; they’re with me.”

The custodian breathed a sigh of relief and took a seat next to Creed.

----

After they had stepped off the bus back at the resort Michael looked at Judy. “Would you care to toast our new agreement at the pool bar?” he asked her. She looked surprised.

“Sure,” she agreed.

“I’ll come,” Kevin said immediately.

“Kev-o! My man! Joinin’ the party! Anyone else?” Michael invited, looking at his employees hopefully.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink,” Pam said. Jim glanced at her, then shrugged.

“Sure,” he added.

Most of the other employees agreed and Michael happily led his group to the bar. Orders were placed and they assembled on stools and around an open table. A few minutes later Michael held his screwdriver aloft and looked at Judy. “To the merger that occurred today. Judy…what’s your last name?”

“Sloan,” Judy provided, taking her Long Island from the bartender and smiling.

“Judy Sloan, welcome to the Dunder Mifflin family,” Michael said grandly.

“You already welcomed her to our family at the airport a few days ago,” Oscar pointed out.

“This one’s official,” Michael said hastily, rolling his eyes at the camera. “May our co-reign be a peaceful and pres…proster…”

“Prostitute?” Jim tried, helpfully jimming from the table.

“A preposterous one,” Michael said firmly.

“No doubt about that,” Stanley muttered. Judy only grinned again and clinked glasses.

“Cheers,” she seconded.

The group turned back to their individual conversations. Pam invited Judy to join them and Kevin followed, squeezing between Judy and Oscar. Judy did her best to casually scoot closer to Pam.

“That show tonight was cool,” Kevin said to Judy. She nodded.

“It is great.” There was a pause. “It’s my husband’s favorite nighttime show.”

Kevin looked as crestfallen as Kevin could. “You’re…married…?”

She nodded again. “Four years this August,” she replied, smiling gently.

There was a long pause. “Oh,” Kevin finally said.

----

Judy: (near the pool) Yes, I really am married. I wasn’t trying to be rude. It seemed relevant to point out. Soon.

----

Kelly was presenting a long list of her purchases thus far to Pam, who was sipping on a beer and politely zoning out while nodding occasionally. “…and I found the cutest purse today, with Maleficent on it? I mean, like, yeah, she’s a villain, but she’s pretty cool looking and I can wear it when I’m having, like, a bad day. It’ll be like a sign, like, when I carry that purse? Uh-uh, stay away from me! But it’s still totally cute, so it’s fine…oooh, and then I got this awesome necklace that’s just, like, little dangly charms? Like, all kinds of different charms – I mean, there’s a glass slipper, and like, that pumpkin carriage thing, and, like, so many other cute little things, and it’s all in silver - which is so much cuter than gold, yuck! - with little pink beads in between the charms and stuff. I love it. Omigod, I completely forgot! I got this little t-shirt with Minnie Mouse on it and it’s, like, all-washed out looking and old, which is so cool right now. Like, you totally can’t wear a gross brand new t-shirt; old is so trendy. But here’s the best part: there are little sequins on the polka dots of her bow! Aaah! I nearly died, it’s so cute – and plus it’s totally form fitting so it, like, hugs all my curves and will just look, like, awesome…I have the perfect shoes to go with it, they even have little bows on them, too, isn’t that the most awesome thing?” Kelly asked, pausing for a reaction that Pam was too spaced out to give. She was saved from a reprimanding by Darryl.

“Hey Pam, where’s Jim? They got the playoffs on the TV at the bar,” he asked.

Pam jumped, but blinked twice and looked up at Darryl. “Oh…he went to make a call.” She looked at him beseechingly. “Wanna join us?”

Darryl’s smile was almost sympathetic. “Nah, Garnett’s at the line. Don’t wanna miss it.”

“Okay.” Pam tried to smile as he walked away. Kelly grabbed her arm.

“So anyway, Pam, these shoes – you’d love them…”

----

All that was present of him at first was his voice. “Greetings from the happiest place on earth. Did I call too late?”

The view consisted only of the hotel rooms as they passed, but finally around a corner Jim was visible on a staircase, his elbows on his knees and cell phone at his ear.

“I figured. How are you?”

“Good, yeah. It’s been a lot of fun.”

“She’s fine. She’s at the bar with everyone else.”

A soft chuckle. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“I’m not questioning your mom perceptiveness. I’m fine.”

“Um…no. Not yet.”

Jim leaned back against the step above him. “Well it isn’t for lack of trying.” His tone was almost lighthearted, but his face betrayed it.

“Twice so far.” He rubbed a hand across his face.

“I think she knows. I don’t know. Can’t exactly ask her.”

“Yeah, I know, but Mom…”

“Yes…”

He sighed, his hand now in his hair. “I know she doesn't need it, Mom, but...she deserves it.”

Chapter End Notes:
I still sort of cringe at that last bit, but I wanted to show how truly frustrated Jim is, and one of those incredibly emotive faces courtesy of John Krasinski wasn't available.

In terms of bonuses, check out Pam, Dwight and Andy's Pooh drawings!

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