Author's Note: Hey all! Yep, I took a whole week's break, but now I'm back. All credit for this idea goes to Mr. Beets - once he shared it I had to run with it.
"Hey Pam," Michael greeted the receptionist amiably.
"Morning, Michael," Pam returned, glancing up from her computer briefly to give him a grin, then returning to work.
Michael remained at her counter, grinning at the camera, then Pam again. A long minute passed, during which Michael tapped out "shave and a haircut, two bits" four times. With the quietest of sighs, Pam looked at him again.
"Did you have a nice weekend?" she asked.
Tap tap-tap tap tap… "Sure did!" Michael finished his fifth go-round with the tune.
"Oh good." Pam returned her gaze to the monitor, apparently thinking her duty was done.
Michael had other ideas.
"Pam," he whispered dramatically. Pam dragged her eyes away from the monitor as if in pain. Michael's eyes were wide with excitement. "Have I got…oh man," he spluttered, giving in to a bout of giggling. He took a deep breath to compose himself as Pam eyed the camera. "I have got a…" But he stopped with a wave of his hand. "I don't want to give it away yet," he said.
"Okay," Pam agreed, almost too readily.
Michael stepped away from her counter, but then rushed back. "I have got the best idea ever," he hissed, grinning widely before scampering back to his office.
Pam pursed her lips and looked to the camera again.
Michael: (hands folded) So, last Friday I got my latest delivery from Columbia House. I'd ordered these DVDs so long ago I'd completely forgotten about them…well, until that charge for like a hundred bucks showed up on my bill…that seems a little high, I know, but I got 12 CDs for a penny three years ago, and you can't argue with a deal like that. Anyway, I open the box, and inside is season two of Magnum, P.I. and Cannonball Run II. (He grins.) Classics, right? And as I was watching, I thought, wow. These guys are so cool. What makes these guys so cool? I mean, Tom Selleck, Burt Reynolds, Dom DeLuise…the epitome of cool. Finally it hit me. (He sits back.) Moustaches. What guy doesn't look cool in a moustache?
The productive midmorning quiet was broken when Michael finally emerged from his office. Standing near Jim's desk he graced his employees with a toothy smile. "Okay, men of Dunder Mifflin, listen up. I have an idea that you're going to love."
"Why only the men?" Angela wondered, frowning.
"Because this isn't France; you ladies can't participate. But trust me, you'll all rape the benefits," Michael assured her. He popped a foot onto Jim's desk in one of his classic poses that had to be murder on his thigh muscles. Jim rolled his chair backwards a few inches. "Fellas, what makes us cool?"
A general silence answered him. His brows furrowed slightly.
"C'mon, guys. What makes cool guys so cool? Think of the coolest guys you know – what makes them awesome?" he pressed.
"Tattoos?" Kevin guessed.
"Good try, Kevin, but no," Michael answered.
"Nice cars?" Oscar attempted uncomfortably.
Michael shot him a sly grin. "Oscar, you gold digger you. But no." Oscar frowned. Michael spread his arms wide. "Come on, guys, think."
"Not having herpes," Andy tried.
"A box spring under your mattress?" This, of course, from Creed.
Dwight snapped his fingers and pointed at Michael. "Owning a rare copy of The Star Wars Holiday Special," he supplied with confidence.
Michael groaned. "No! God!" He looked to his assistant regional manager. "Jim, help me out."
"I'm going with Dwight's answer," Jim replied, steepling his fingers under his chin thoughtfully. Dwight nodded.
Michael heaved a world-weary sigh. "No, no, and no," he fumed, rubbing his temples. "It's moustaches, dammit! Moustaches!"
Andy clapped appreciatively. "Yes. The 'stache!"
"Really?" Jim asked, jimming at Pam. She raised her eyebrows at him in a way that clearly said "Duh."
"Yes really. There's never been a guy who had a moustache that wasn't super cool. Think about it: LeBron James, Johnny Depp, that My Name Is Earl guy-"
"Hitler," Jim helpfully added to the list.
Michael shifted awkwardly. "Well—"
"Don't forget Gallagher," Pam threw in.
"What does this have to do with us?" Oscar asked, folding his arms.
"Gracias for your enthusiasm, Oscar. I figured, in the effort to boost our cool factor here - not that we need to, but it never hurts – all us guys could grow moustaches," Michael explained. He took his foot off Jim's desk with some difficulty and strolled to the center of the office. "And, to make it interesting, I thought we could place a little moolah on the line. Let's say we each chip in a hundred bucks, and whoever has the best moustache at the end of four weeks gets the pool. Stanley the Manly, you're obviously not eligible, seeing as how you already rock a moustache."
"Oh damn," Stanley muttered, never raising his eyes from his paperwork.
"But everyone else may enter." Michael smiled and rubbed his hands together, surveying the crowd. "Whaddya think?"
"How will we determine who has the best moustache?" Dwight asked.
"That's where the ladies'll get involved. They'll vote." Michael smiled wider. "So? Who's in?"
"Me," Kevin immediately volunteered.
Kevin: I can grow a pretty awesome moustache. I used to have one a few years ago, but the ladies didn't seem to like it. (He looks a little down but shrugs.) It's only a month. I could really use the cash.
Phyllis: (frowning) I asked Michael if Bob Vance could participate, but he said no. He said he didn't want the Vance Refrigeration office to get any cooler, just ours. It's too bad, because I've always thought Bobby would look real handsome in a moustache. (She smiles.) Like Wink Martindale. (A pause.) With a moustache.
Much to her obvious dismay, Michael had left Pam with the sign up list and the envelope designated to hold everyone's money. Dwight and Andy approached her desk at the same time. "I need the list," they said in unison. Without looking up from her game of Free Cell Pam set the paper on her counter. Andy was quicker off the draw and snatched it first. Dwight gave him an evil look.
"You honestly think you can grow a better moustache than me?" he scoffed.
Andy smirked as he signed his name with a flourish. "Are you kidding me? I grow a 'stache that could only be described with one word." Andy tossed the paper at Dwight. He let the pause marinate as he fished five twenties from his wallet. After handing them to Pam he raised one eyebrow at Dwight. "Glorious," he finally informed, then strutted back to his desk.
Pam looked away from the computer and shared a rare smile with Dwight.
Angela: How do I feel about moustaches? They're not wrong; our Lord and Savior had one. Do I find them appealing? (A long pause while she contemplates that. She finally arches her eyebrow.) Much like many things, it depends on the man.
Oscar: I know it's stupid, but I'm going to join the bet. I've never really had a moustache or goatee, but my hair grows pretty quickly, so I think that's a bonus. (He grimaces.) I hate that I'll look like a 1970's gay stereotype, but I'm also really itching to go on another vacation, so…fair trade-off, I guess.
It was only an hour before quitting time when Jim approached Pam's desk looking overly casual. Striking his trademark lean, he reached over and retrieved the list from her desk. "Everyone's signed up, huh?" he mused.
"Just about," Pam answered, typing up a memo to corporate.
"Even Creed?"
Pam nodded, looking over at Jim for a moment. "Although I don't think he actually knew what he was signing up for. He mentioned something about a pick-up place and avoiding 'the pigs,'" she told him.
"Sounds about right," Jim said.
Pam continued typing and didn't look up again until the sign-up list and a crisp hundred dollar bill landed on her keyboard. With an expression of pure shock she looked to Jim, who was already back at his desk and artfully avoiding her gaze.
Jim: So, I decided I might as well go for it. I'm not sure I'll win, but…no harm in trying. (He holds up a fist and smirks.) Solidarity.
Pam: Do I find moustaches attractive? Well, Roy had a moustache for awhile… (She trails off, realizing this may not be the wisest track to go down, then shrugs.) Um… (Another uncomfortable pause.) Jim's always cute. (Long, long pause. She reaches up and fiddles with her necklace.) We could use some new furniture.
Michael: Can you believe it? (He holds up the sign up list triumphantly.) Everyone signed up! I knew they'd love this plan. (He leans in some.) I made it a bet because…well, I'm obviously gonna win. That six hundo is as good as mine. I mean, there's no contest. Don't believe me? Look at this. (He quickly loosens his tie, unbuttons his top buttons and holds his shirt open, revealing a very hairy chest.) No one'll be able to contend with that. (He strokes his upper lip in anticipation.) I can almost feel it growing in now.
A/N Pt. II: I'm writing this at a much more leisurely pace, so updates may not be as frequent, plus I have a few other things - fan fiction related and otherwise - that I'm working on. Just a head's up. This story won't be getting cute review songs like The Trip, but you can still review. I encourage it, really.