Working on his comedy routine that was totally gonna kill on stage, thanks for asking, Michael sighed with exhaustion as his mechanical pencil dropped sharply with his patience. He couldn't take the mocking and lack of respect from his "friends" anymore. What could have caused it, Michael thought, maybe it was his shocking affair with Jan, or her hot beach pictures that were hilarious being sent to the whole office, nah, that couldn't be it.
Man, without Ryan, the temp, Michael felt totally deflated, having a young, hot, and he meant HOT temp around gave Michael some authority, rustling his jimbos something fierce, someone to boss around, show the lay of the land, and maybe, if Jan goes crazy and acts like a stone-cold psycho-bitch, then Michael would without question give the temp some EXPERIENCE, as in butt stuff, with his dick.
All of this pondering about his harboured gay thoughts toward Ryan were interrupted, not by Pam as Michael would have liked, her being the office babe, of course, but by the literal worst person it could possibly have been; Toby Flenderson, human nyquil, the personification of a coma, the reason that relationships and people die, Toby is the bed that not even Goldilocks wanted, the reason wars are started and why nuclear weapons exist, and Michael was being nice.
"God fucking dammit, Toby, what could you possibly want?!"
"Well Michael, corporate has been worried about you, you've been awfully depressed lately, not leaving work…" Michael ignores Toby, dialing Pam and instructing her to close his door and curtains, it still being the afternoon, Michael didn't want that pharaoh that hadn't died yet, Phyllis, or more angry Samuel L. Jackson, Stanley, to notice what was about to happen, but luckily Jim was close enough, he was bound to. Toby suspected what was about to happen, his talk stopped instantly, having less of a point than it normally did. With the door closed, Michael walked Toby into it, on top of him, locking the door, sandwiching Toby, Michael whispered,
"Toby, there's been something I've wanted to put in your mouth for the longest time, and no, it's not my fist for once, it's my company awarded Dunder Miff-dick, and you've earned it big time, Toby."
"But Michael, I don't think corporate would be okay with us using company property like this, also I don't know if it'll fit."
"That's what she said" and Michael and Toby commenced fucking, plastering every inch of the office, filling his "world's best boss" mug past the brim with exactly what you think they did.