AN: Thanks to everyone who favorited/reviewed my last story. I'm glad i can enetertain you guys at such a time of turmoil. And thanks to those who said I should write for the Office. It's what I'm in Uni for, but by the time I get out, the Office will probably be done.
Just to let everyone know, I consider the stories that I've written (Not including Little Tuna) So The Thunderstorm, Receptionist Day, The Scare, and this one, The Break In) to be a series. So each story is a continuation of the one directly before it, along with recent aired episodes. So this story and the next will continue the same Jim and Pam storyline and etc.
That said, please enjoy and try to forget about the strike.
The Break In Chapter 1 Office Turmoil
Michael walked into the office, "Good morning," he greeted with a German accent, and then broke into laughter, "That's how they say 'good morning' in Germany." He continued laughing until he noticed that no one had said a word. Finally getting a real look at the office, he found it was empty.
"Guys?" He questioned as he set down his briefcase, and began walking around the office, the tails of his trench coat swayed as he did. "Oh I get it," he chuckled to himself, "My birthday is in a few months and they want to surprise me," he walked passed sales and towards accounting, "You know, the student becomes the teacher and all that grasshopper stuff," he waved his hand at the thought as he stopped back at reception.
"Morning Michael," Dwight greeted with a smile as he came through the doors, and stopped beside his boss who blocked his way.
"Dwight," Michael was now in a full fit of laughter and held on to the other man's shoulders, "Dwight tell me where everyone else is," his face was red and very close to Dwight's. As he moved to answer Michael erupted into a new fit, "No don't tell me, I want it to be a surprise."
Dwight arched an eyebrow, "Where is everyone?" he questioned setting his briefcase down beside Michael's as he pushed passed him, "Where are all the computers and telephones?" He evaded Jim's desk and stopped before his own, "My God."
"Dwight," Michael threw a hand over his eyes dramatically and turned away from his employee, "The telephones and computers are where they always are," he turned back and walked to stand beside Dwight, "Don't you think I would notice if," Michael stopped talking as he finally took a look at the desks.
The entire office was disheveled. Papers were thrown everywhere, one of the windows to the conference room was cracked, the door to Michael's office was hanging in place by only one hinge, and many of the desks were missing drawers and vandalized.
"Oh my God," Michael's hand came up to protect his agape mouth, "It's like a tornado of hate went through here."
Dwight hit his fisted hand against the top of his desk, "Damn it, it was probably Jim. In his sick brain this would pass as a joke." He continued to hit his desk.
"Dwight, Dwight, Dwight," Michael called Dwight's name until he desisted his punching of the desk and glanced up at him. With a strangled voice he added, "That desk has already been through enough today."
Dwight moved his eyes to the jagged letters that spelt out the word 'ass' on his desk. It was most likely done with a razorblade, "I'm sorry Michael, I'm just upset."
"I understand," Michael's voice was muttered by his hand against his mouth as he watched Dwight try and determine if there was a booby-trap on his office chair. "But if someone from the office did do this, it was probably Toby."
Michael stood leaning against the wall in his office, a position that Dwight usually held. Around him, the blinds on his window were bent and wall hangings were broken and askew, "Who would do something like this to a nice little office," he shook his head, incapable of comprehending why someone would commit such an act, "This is going to put a damper on the office, everyone is going to come back from their weekend and the first thing that happened to them was this."
As he moved away from the wall, a piece of pink chewing gum stretched from the back of his suit to the wall, "Damn it," his voice was full of anger and exhaustion even though it was only a little after nine in the morning. He shuffled his feet to turn in a circle hoping that the string of gum would rip under the pressure, but only managed to get wrapped up more.
He stopped moving once he had completed two full rotations and the clothesline still showed no sign of breaking. He looked to the camera with very sad eyes, "I guess this is why Garfield hates Mondays."
"They took everything from petty cash," Angela frowned and closed the safe back up, "Doesn't anyone have any morals anymore?"
"Oh God," Kevin cried from across the partition. He fell on his hands and knees and began to rake through the piles of defaced property underneath his desk. When he didn't find what he was looking for he shot up and announced, "They took all my M&M's. Even the ones that were still in the bag."
Angela began picking up single pieces of crumpled paper with only her index finger and thumb, "This just goes to show you how smart convicts are."
Oscar picked up his office chair and tried to set it upright, but it kept toppling over to the side, "Angela, obviously it was just angry kids." The chair toppled over once more, and he finally noticed that two of the wheels were missing.
"Oh man," Andy looked at the hole in his desk where one of the drawers once lived, "they took my Gameboy!"
"Since the second day I worked for Dunder Mifflin, I have always kept a Gameboy in my top desk drawer. I've beaten all the major titles for it," Andy linked his hands and brought them up to cushion the back of this head, "Pokémon I beat in two weeks, I was a Pokémaster. Then I got to Mario, and really didn't understand the objective of the game."
"No," Michael shook his head as he moved towards Andy. Dwight followed him, rolling in his office chair with a blunt pair of scissors still trying to cut him free of the gum. Michael placed an awkward hand on Andy's shoulder, "you're game is something that they will never be able to take," he paused for a few seconds then added, "Dawg."
"Michael," Stanley pushed all the strewn papers off his desk, "Have you called the police yet?"
"Yes, Stanley," Michael tried to place his hands on his hips, but only managed to hit Dwight in the face with his elbow, "suck it up," he muttered when Dwight held a hand over his reddening nose. Turning his attention back to Stanley he added, "And I want you to know that this wasn't a hate crime."
"I know that," Stanley shifted his eyes over to Michael and then back over to the dusty space where his computer once sat.
"Good," Michael nodded to make his answer more concrete. The incessant sound of scissors clipping could be heard, "because you know they didn't use that word once."
"What word?" Stanley questioned.
Michael swallowed hard, "you know the word."
"No Michael," Stanley leaned forward on his desk, "I do not."
Michael shook his hand, shooing Stanley, "never mind." He turned to walk away and ended up hitting Dwight in the face with this other elbow, "God, Dwight. Seriously."
Meredith pulled out a drawer and flung it to the ground, "They took my scotch," her voice held anger, but there was a tinge of sadness in it. When most of the office stilled to watch her she added, "Tape, Scotch Tape."
Michael blew a raspberry at her, "Please, there's more Scotch Tape down in the warehouse." He lifted his arms up like a child about to take off a shirt as Dwight cut the final strands away.
"Have you even been in contact with the warehouse?" Phyllis questioned as she pulled out from under her desk, "Or corporate?"
"They took the phones Phyllis," Michael's voice was hard and loud, "And Pam isn't here yet, so I can't send her down to the warehouse," he paused and added, "Or New York."
Kelly burst throw the kitchen doors, her face flush and shiny with tears, "They broke all my toys," she held up the handfuls of half BRATZ bodies, and fluffy pink picture frames broken. Sobbing she leaned against Michael, who looked uncomfortable. His nose twitched as she hiccupped and Dwight kept cutting away.
When she leaned back a string of gum attached to one of her BRATZ heads', "ew," she exclaimed softly, and walked back to lean against the wall, leaving the head to hang against Michael's body like a Christmas Tree ornament.
"Well," Creed leaned back in his office chair that had a part of the back burnt off, "They didn't touch any of my stuff.
"Oh they're lucky they didn't," Creed spoke to the camera with sincerity, "I cover everything in my desk drawers with a thin layer of poison. Anyone who touches it gets sick within twenty-four hours, but I've grown immune." His face was emotionless as he added, "Haven't you ever wondered why so many people get sick in this office?"
"Wow," Jim's eyes grew wide, his fingers playing with the strap of his bag as he rounded the corner into the office with Pam, "This can't be good."
"Oh my God, Pam," Kelly cried and flung her body at the other woman so hard she pushed her back against reception, "Pam, they went into the back and they cut up all my BRATZ dolls, even Brianna. She was my favorite. If she was a real person, I would totally be her friend."
"Who?" Pam questioned as she lightly patted her coworker's back.
"Heathens," Angela replied as she dumped a load of garbage into a can. She was wearing rubber gloves on her hands.
Michael turned around to face the couple just joining the situation; Dwight ducked this time, missing his boss' elbow slamming into his nose, "Well I'm so glad you two could join us for our turmoil."
"We are too," Jim smiled and glanced around his desk for a place to put his bag. When he found everything was sufficiently trashed, he just dropped it to the floor, "What happened?"
"Done," Dwight got up from his chair, several strands of bright pink gum grasped in his hand and a severed BRATZ head in the other.
Jim watched him with curiosity as Michael explained, "Someone broke in last night and trashed the place, they stole all the phones and the computers."
"And they beat up Dwight?" Jim questioned, looking at his desk mate's red nose.
"No that was me," Michael brushed the dust off his suit.
"Have you called the police yet?" Jim took of his coat, meaning to hang it on the back of his chair, but was perplexed when he couldn't find his chair.
"Yes I called the police," Michael replied harshly, "Why does everyone always ask me that?"
Jim sighed and gave up on trying to find a spot for his coat, "Have you checked out the warehouse yet?"
"No," crossing his arms Michael gave Jim a look of disdain and questioned childishly, "And what gives you this sudden expertise over break ins?"
"Actually," Pam spoke up from where she was trying to clear the silly string off of her desk, "My apartment got broken into last night."
"Oh my God, Pam," Kelly launched herself at the receptionist again.
Phyllis stood from being on all fours, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Pam nodded as Kelly almost strangled her. When the girl finally let go of her she added, "I just hid in my room and phoned the police."
Michael bit his trembling lower lip. His eyes were shining and almost everyone in the room rolled their eyes, "This place is recursed," he shook his head as a single tear fell.
Next Chapter - More about both break ins is explained, like why Jim and Pam didn't think the office was broken into when they arrived.