It's not every day you meet the one person you'll be stuck with indefinitely.
A two-part Dunder Mifflin, Lima Branch story.
(The camera zooms in on a blonde in her early thirties)
Off camera, a voice says, "State your name for the record."
The blonde clears her throat. "My name is Terri Del Monico. I'm currently the assistant manager at Sheets 'N Things. I heard about this job fair from a frequent customer of mine—his name is Sandy Ryerson."
"How would you describe your Sheets 'N Things experience?"
"I'm sorry. Why am I doing this again?" Terri asks.
"We're making a documentary on Dunder Mifflin and right now we're also screening potential candidates for their corporate headquarters."
"Right," Terri replies. "It's not that I don't love Sheets 'N Things—I just feel like I have the potential to do so much more than fold fitted sheets and look at Pottery Barn catalogs all day. Which is why I think Dunder Mifflin would be the perfect place for me."
"If that's all," Terri continues, "I have other booths to check out. I hear Staples is also hiring."
TERRI: So this is a confessional like the Real World, right? Or the Catholic Church. Anyway, I have a confession to make... I have no fucking clue what Dunder Mifflin is.
(The camera shows a different blonde woman with a pink cowgirl outfit on, complete with gold tassels)
"How did you hear about this job fair?" the same ominous voice from before asks her.
The woman flashes the camera a toothy grin. "I was workin' in a factory stampin' M's on all these little candies when my boss said I could go home and that I never had to come back. I was so excited, I made my way to the nearest bar, got lost, and ended up here!"
"So do you have any qualifications? A college degree?"
"Hell, I got all that and then some. I've worked just about every job there is, not to mention I got my BS, my QA, and I'm all about some fong-shwong and fing-fong. Whatever they call it."
"One more thing before you go. What's your name?"
"April. April Rhodes."
APRIL: This was fun. Y'all come back now, y'hear?
(The scene changes to the outside of a house in the suburbs)
"Oh my God, I knew it! You're stalkers," Terri says when she opens the door. "My sister warned me about this. Dammit, I hate it when she's right."
"Actually," the voice says, "we came to tell you that you've been selected to interview at Dunder Mifflin's corporate headquarters in Chicago, Illinois later today. We sent you an email reminder and you replied, 'Yeah'."
"Huh. I vaguely remember that," Terri says, perking up at the thought of going to Chicago at the drop of a hat. "Let me guess... you're going to film the whole thing for your little reality show."
"Documentary."
"Whatever," says Terri. "Kendra!" she yells into the house. "Turns out I'm not as stupid as you think for giving those guys with cameras our home address!"
"Unless they have a Publisher's Clearinghouse check for a million dollars, they're staying on the porch!" A woman, presumably Kendra, yells back.
"My sister," Terri says apologetically. "I live here with her and her family."
A large crash is heard from inside.
"How many times do I have to tell you—Kyle is not a battering ram!" Kendra says.
Terri winces. "She has three boys. Triplets, as a matter of fact. So what do you think my chances are of getting this job and moving out?"
TERRI: I live in the basement...which is great except I wake up every afternoon to the sound of five pairs of feet stomping around up there like wild animals instead of my Happy Days alarm clock. It makes for some very unhappy days.
KENDRA: So you know, I memorized all of your faces. If my sister turns up dead somewhere on the side of the road, I'll hunt you bastards down one by one until there's nobody left.
TERRI: No, I don't mind giving her a ride. You said her name is April, right? She sounds sweet. Give me twenty minutes to pack and we can go.
(Terri's basement — where she is on the phone and packing simultaneously)
"Howard, I know you're not supposed to be in the store unsupervised, but this is an emergency and no one can cover my shift," Terri says, cramming clothes into her suitcase and cradling her phone to her ear with her shoulder. "If anything goes wrong, just tell the customer to come back in two days. I'll be there then."
She shoves her toiletries into the side pocket of her suitcase and double checks that she has her toothbrush. "And don't forget to restock the oven mitts," she adds. "Howard, I am doing someone a favor, okay? Her name is April Road or something and she needs to get to Chicago for a job interview, but she doesn't have a car."
"So why are you taking her?" Howard asks.
"Because I'm a good freaking Samaritan, that's why!" Terri shrieks. "I'll talk to you later, Howard."
Kendra walks down the stairs. "I thought I told you to wait outside," she says to the camera crew. "Terr, I don't like this one bit."
Terri zips her suitcase up. "Do you want me to depend on you for the rest of my life?"
"Fuck no," Kendra replies. "I already have three kids and a husband. The last thing I need is to buy your Lunchables until I'm eighty. Just take your mace and don't give them the key to your motel room."
TERRI: Sometimes I feel like Kendra isn't very nurturing. When she and her husband, Phil, were dating, she told him she'd rather dump him than take care of him when he was sick.
KENDRA: You want me to limit my number of F-bombs? Fuck you!
TERRI: If I had a boyfriend, I'd smother him like Waffle House hashbrowns.
(The dashboard camera shows Terri pulling up to 35 Bontempo Road, the address April gave the documentary crew)
Terri checks her makeup in the rear view mirror. "I bet this woman is a total professional," she says. "Her grass is cut and everything."
The Voice knocks on her window and turns on his handheld camera as he follows Terri up to April's door. Terri takes a deep breath before ringing the doorbell six times.
April answers it almost immediately. "I don't remember callin' a paralegal," she says, gazing at Terri's business formal outfit.
"Are you April Road?" Terri asks.
April eyes her warily. "I'm not at liberty to say. Who're you?"
TERRI: I better get a job out of this.
APRIL: I applied for a job? When?
(The dashboard cam shows Terri driving down the interstate with April in the passenger seat)
"One toke over the line, sweet Jesus," April sings, "one toke over the line."
Terri tunes into a different radio station with one hand while the other keeps the wheel steady. "That's enough Oldies for me," she says.
April laughs. "So what are we gonna listen to, Kidz Bop?" she says, pulling a CD out of Terri's center console.
"That belongs to my nephews," Terri replies tersely. "Put it back. If anything happens to it my sister will kill me."
April puts the CD back where she found it and spies loose change laying on the floorboard, giving her a very naughty idea. "Pull over at the next truck stop," she says. "I need a snack otherwise my blood sugar will drop."
Terri sighs. They have plenty of time to get to Chicago, but she doesn't want to get sidetracked by this crazy woman's shenanigans.
However, on the off-chance that April really does have diabetes Terri can't say no. She's not a horrible person despite what her friends, family, and coworkers think.
"Fine," she complies, flipping her blinker on and steering diagonally across three lanes of cars in order to get off at the upcoming exit. She ignores the honks from other people as April gives them all the middle finger.
"Woo!" April yells. "I haven't had this much fun since I followed Belinda Carlisle on tour. Talk about Heaven bein' a place on Earth!"
APRIL: I plan on impressin' the judges—I mean the interviewers—with my blow jobs. It's a talent. And if it's lady interviewers? Hell, I ain't afraid to lick the carpet.
(Terri pulls into a gas station and waits for April to get her snack)
Terri honks her horn to let April know to speed it along. She can see April inside chatting with another patron and then all of a sudden April is shaking hands with the man.
"What was that in there?" Terri asks April once she's back inside the car. "Did you just sell drugs to that man?"
"Don't be ridiculous! I don't sell drugs," April says. "I bought some from him."
Terri starts the engine. "This is going to be the worst trip ever."
APRIL: How would I describe Terri? Who's Terri?
TERRI: April's like that psycho hitchhiker you're not supposed to pick up on the side of the road, but you do because you feel sorry for her and then the next thing you know she's offering you cocaine.
APRIL: If only the good die young, then I reckon I'm bound to live forever! Who wants a bump?