A/N: Not my characters. And I just started watching so forgive me ahead of time.
"Jim, Jim, bojim. Banana fana fofim me my oh nim. Jim." Michael came into the office with a hip song to connect himself with his coworkers. He saw his receptionist and flashed her a thumbs up. "Pam, Pam, bopam. Banana fana fofam. Me my oh nam. Pam." He grinned. "Isn't it great! I can do any name. Come on, try me."
Jim turned in his seat. "Angela."
"Angie, Angie, Boangie. Banana fana fofangie me my oh nangie. Angie."
"But my name is Angela," she said from her desk.
Michael stoically ignored her as he whistled his way into his own office to waste half of his morning.
Near lunchtime Michael bounced out of his office to make an announcement. "People, it's that time of year again."
The staff fought the urge to groan. Pam looked at the calendar. "The Dungies were only ten months ago."
Michael grinned. "No, sadly, not the Dungies. Hey, Booboo," he said in a fake Yogi Bear accent. "It's time to take the picnic basket." The staff just stared. "The picnic basket," he repeated in his normal voice. "You know, for the..."
"Picnic?" Jim supplied.
"Yes, thank you!"
Dwight straightened in his chair. "The annual picnic. How fun."
"I know, right," Michael said with a smile.
Jim and Pam shared a brief glance. "Right what?"
"What?" Michael asked back.
"This is stupid," someone muttered under their breath but it was loud enough everyone heard.
Michael stood very still. "Who said that?" He looked around the office but only Dwight would meet his eyes. "Well, until someone confesses I'll be sending people home. Pam, get out."
Her jaw dropped. "Why me?"
Jim spoke up. "You can't send Pam home. It's discrimination against pretty people."
Michael looked at him in all seriousness. "You have a point. Meredith, go home."
She remained seated. "With pay?"
"Well, no."
"Then you go home."
The whole office gawked at the soft spoken woman. "What?" Michael asked again.
Her face turned the color of her hair. "I'm not leaving," she said, adamantly.
He hated doing it but he had no choice. "Uh, I'm still your boss."
"And? You can't send me home for something I didn't do."
"Yes, I can. It's my prerogative."
"Michael, if I did everything you told me to do I'd never get any work done."
"Fine, Meredith. Ruin the day for everyone else." He turned his attention to Pam. "Make a list of what people are bringing."
Pam was scared to ask if there was a theme so she just nodded.
Michael continued to talk. "Employees of this office ONLY. I don't want a repeat of last year, Pam."
"Roy's grandmother died," she protested.
"And it ruined the atmosphere. Don't let an old bat die this year."
"Glad to see the sensitivity classes are working for you," Jim told him.
Michael nodded. "Complete waste of time. I'm a highly sensitive person."
After lunch Pam took a spiral notebook around to her fellow coworkers to record their food.
"We're getting a grill, right?" Jim asked her as he bounced a rubber band ball on his desk.
Dwight reached over and grabbed the ball. "Finders keepers."
"You didn't find it, you stole it," Jim argued. "Make your own."
"Michael will be bringing the grill," Pam told them. "He does every year."
"Put me down for hot dogs," Jim, told her.
Dwight snorted. "Dirty meat products."
"What are you bringing?" Pam asked him.
"Burgers. The clean meat."
She left them arguing to get to the other people. "Angela?"
"Cookies. And don't you dare make any dessert to ruin my goodies."
Kevin swallowed the M & Ms in his mouth. "I want potato salad."
"We'll be outside in the heat," Pam told him. "It will ruin."
"But I want potato salad."
"People will get sick."
"I love potato salad."
Stanley had had enough. "Put the man down for his damn potato salad."
Pam flushed but did as she was told.
"I won't be bringing anything," Creed told her matter-of-factly.
"It's potluck."
"I'm not on pot."
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "You have to bring something or you can't eat."
"Try and stop me."
She walked away, muttering, "Way to be a team player"
The day of the picnic there were ominous clods in the sky.
"Maybe we should postpone it, Michael," Pam told him while they looked outside.
"Maybe you should get a new hair stylist," he shot back slightly irritable.
"Don't take it out on me," she told him. "I can't control the weather."
He walked out of his office. "Ok, who did the rain dance? Oscar?"
Oscar looked up. "Why would I do a rain dance?"
"Isn't it part of your heritage?" Michael asked.
"Maybe we should postpone the picnic," Jim spoke up.
Michael glared at him, "We all brought food. The picnic is on."
The picnic was held in a small grassy knoll just outside the office building. When the coworkers made their way to the grass, food in hands as the wind kicked up their hair.
The storm came quickly upon them as they miserably ate their lunch. The cloud opened up and the people were soaked within the first seconds. They made a run for the building and trooped into their office dripping on the floor.
Michael smiled at his team. "Just think, fellows. This is probably the most women you've ever made wet."
The office glared at him before soggily going back to their jobs.