8:54 AM - Reception
Jim was leaning against the reception counter, chewing his first jelly bean of the day. He'd purposely chosen a blueberry one.
"Are you surprised Michael isn't here yet?" Pam asked him. In place of an answer Jim only stuck out his now-tinted tongue. She gave him a smile. His heart leapt in that familiar way. "Seriously – today of all days I really thought he'd be here early."
Jim shrugged. "He's shooting for a dramatic entrance." The door to the office swung open and both heads turned, fully expecting to see their boss striding in. Instead four strange men entered, two toting large cases, one a duffel bag, one empty handed. The one free of baggage smiled and approached.
"Hi. We're from the production company," he stated. As he continued in his introductions, Jim couldn't help but be surprised. Oh sure, talk around the office had focused on little else but today, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that of all the offices all over the country, Dunder Mifflin – a struggling paper company in Scranton, Pennsylvania - may actually become the subject of a documentary.
There had been a nationwide search. "Show us what the American workplace truly is," had been the tagline. Jim had no doubt bosses and employees alike had submitted thousands of videos displaying why their office should be the one chosen. Jim had seen Michael's video (set to Loverboy's "Working for the Weekend," which seemed as inappropriate a choice as possible), and could only assume Dunder Mifflin had been chosen as a finalist because no one truly believed Michael Scott was…well, real. Or sane, for that matter. He was certain the production company would come tape them for this trial day, satisfy their warped curiosity, and that would be the last anyone would hear of them. Jim almost envied them, in a way – he wished he could experience this office and its cast of bizarre characters as an outsider too. What would they look like? Moreover, would he – and Pam (the only other person Jim could confidently call normal) – be guilty of weirdo status by association?
Just as the team was starting to unpack Michael swept in. "Good morning, my Dunder Mifflin…-ites!" he chirped, grinning broadly.
"Good morning, Michael!" Dwight immediately responded, standing. It was the only response.
"Dwight. I said good mor-ning," Michael tried again impatiently. Finally there were a few murmured greetings. He pivoted to look at the film crew. "Hello! I am Michael Scott, regional manager of the Dunder Mifflin, Scranton branch," he introduced himself grandly, throwing in a slight bow. The head of the crew held out his hand.
"Randall Johnson, producer of the American Workplace project."
"Pleasure to meet you! Shall we begin?" He started toward the middle of the office. "I love starting the day with a few words of inspiration for the troops – you know, just a little something to get everyone fired up."
Jim forced himself to look away in order to hide his smirk. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pam bring a hand to her face to scratch at a nonexistent itch on her upper lip.
"Well, ah, we actually have to get our equipment ready first, then scope out the best places to set up the cameras-"
"Of course," Michael interjected, unfazed as he quickly retraced his steps. "Do a Martin Scorsese number, catch all the action."
Jim gave Randall credit - there was only a slight pause. "Yes. Right. Then we'll have to get release forms signed and mike everyone. Once all that's done but before we officially start filming I'd like to get everyone together and make sure they understand exactly what we'll be doing today."
"Absolutely," Michael agreed, then clapped his hands. "All right, everyone, you heard Raymond-"
"Randall," Jim and Pam corrected in unison. They exchanged smiles. Jinx moratorium.
"Right. Conference room. Let's do this!"
9:36 AM - Conference Room
"So basically what I want to impress upon you all is to just be yourselves. Pretend it's any other day. Try not to look into the cameras, but don't worry if you do. We understand how strange it'll seem, but trust me – by lunch you'll barely notice them anymore," Randall finished with a smile.
"Unless you're Michael Scott," Jim murmured to Pam, who nodded. Randall looked around the room.
"Any questions?"
Before anyone could have replied, Michael hopped off his seat in the front row. Jim knew he had been in sheer agony allowing someone else to run a discussion, especially in his beloved conference room. "Don't worry about this group," he stated, looking over his employees. "Sharpest cookies in America. I'd bet on it."
"I'll see that bet," Stanley muttered. Michael look flustered for a moment then smiled.
"Stanley…he's our Bill Cosby. Constant jokester." Jim felt the impression coming. Pam poked him in the arm with her pen. "Plus he loves the Jell-O pudding!" Michael added in his best Cosby voice.
"Hmph." Stanley's noise of utter distaste covered the soft snort that escaped Pam. Jim heard it and grinned. The noise was in his top five of Favorite Pam Quirks.
Randall merely gave Michael another smile and stepped out to be sure the cameramen were ready. After a moment he returned and nodded. "We're all set," he affirmed.
"All set," Michael repeated, adjusting his tie. "Break a leg, everyone!"
"Really, just act naturally," Randall stressed as the Dunder Mifflin employees stood and began filing out.
"I think that may have been the most informative half hour we've ever spent in the conference room," Jim mused as he followed Pam out.
"No question."