Jim pulled Pam away from the desk and into the break room.
"What is going on?" Jim asked.
"Um...I got here early, like Toby asked me to in the email," Pam said. "When I got to the front door, Toby was waiting for me."
"What did he say, what did he do?"
"Well, he stood there for a few minutes and kinda stared at me and I saw...her...sitting at my desk."
"Toby met you? Michael's here - they're not firing you-"
"No. No! Not that," she said.
"So why have you come in early and bring in a new receptionist? And who is she?"
"I asked Toby that, after clearing my throat a few times to get him to stop staring at me-"
"Okay, why was Toby staring at you?"
"I have no idea," Pam replied. "He must've been in a daze...anyway, he snaps out of it, and tells me I'm not fired, but they're loaning my job to someone else. Her."
Both looked out towards the office and noticed some of the other employees - Kevin, Oscar, Phyllis - arriving in the background, with Kevin doing a double-take at reception.
Jim asked, "'Loaning'? Why?!"
"It's corporate, and Toby says he can't tell me because they didn't tell him."
"Uh, okay," Jim replied, as Pam shrugged her shoulders. "So, uh, we have two receptionists?"
"No. My...temporary job duties are yet to be-"
Oscar Martinez, having noticed Jim and Pam on his way to his desk, went into the break room instead, stopped and pointed towards the office. "What on earth is going on with Michael? He's working."
"Yeah, we noticed that, too," Jim said. "Not that our boss doing actual work is a bad thing, but-"
Phyllis Vance then walked in. "Pam, someone's at your desk...are you fired?"
"No, no," Pam said. "I was-"
Before she could explain, Kevin Malone burst into the room. "Pam, someone's at your desk," he said.
"Yeah, there is," Pam said.
"She's hot."
"Yes, she's very pretty."
Kevin slowly nodded, then pondered his response. "Who is she?"
Everyone turned towards Pam, who replied, "I have no idea."
The New Receptionist (with Kevin; Oscar; Phyllis; and Andy Bernard looking through the window over her left shoulder): My name is Kate Tod-my name is Caitlin Rose, but I go by Kate. I'm from Indiana. I love dogs, flowers, especially roseferns, my privacy, drawing, coffee, and woodworking. I was sent here from the agency to be the receptionist, and to make sure the regional manager does his job...by any means necessary. (She abruptly looks over her shoulder at the others, who scatter a few moments later, then turns back to the camera and smiles before looking off to her left, and getting up to leave.) Excuse me.
Jim walked into Michael's office after the new receptionist went into the conference room; Dwight Schrute followed closely behind Jim, only to have the door shut in his face; Dwight found the door locked when he went to open it.
Michael was still at his desk, typing on a laptop while looking at a folder. Jim looked over Michael's shoulder as Dwight kept knocking on the other side of the door. "Michael, what are you doing?"
"Work," he said. "Inventory, corporate says it has to be done by the end of the day."
"Quarterly inventory?...we're supposed to do that tomorrow, Michael."
"Corporate wants it done today," Michael replied, before glancing out his window while the doorknob jiggled. "Thank God she's away-oh God she's behind the door isn't she?"
The door opened and - to Michael's momentary relief - Dwight walked in.
"The door was locked," he said, glaring at Jim. "Fortunately I am skilled at picking locks."
Dwight Schrute: I was taught to pick locks at the age of seven by my father, who sometimes locked himself out of his house to maintain that particular skill. I quickly mastered the skill, as I was locked out of the house in a driving rain, sirens blaring in the distance, a funnel cloud forming nearby and my family in the storm cellar. Over the years lock picking has been useful; last summer, I locked my keys in my car and had to pick my own car door not just to retrieve my keys but to rescue my cousin Mose from the 150 degree temperature inside the vehicle.
"I see that," Jim said. "Congratulations. You've just violated company policy."
"False: I did no such thing," Dwight replied, bristling at Jim before turning his full attention to Michael. "Are you in danger, Michael? Do you require aid? Do you need rescue?"
Michael looked up at both men, sweat beads forming on his forehead. "No, Dwight, I'm fine, I just need to...no, I'm not fine, I came in an hour early like David Wallace asked me to, and the temp from Hell was sitting there with the devil."
"The devil?" Jim asked.
"Toby is the devil, and she," Michael replied, looking toward the reception desk, "she is Toby's demon, who devoured Pam and has been sent here to torture me."
Jim paused, then pointed towards the door. "Pam's right here," he said, as Pam waved while walking in. "And that receptionist has only been here for two hours."
"She might be the nicest person in the world," Pam added.
"You wouldn't say that if you saw her demonic glare, Jim," Michael said.
"Perhaps she is an incubus," Dwight interjected, "or a balrog."
"A 'balrog'?" Jim asked, right before he heard Michael yell out and fall backwards in his chair, onto the floor. Dwight pushed Jim out of the way to get to Michael; Jim and Pam noticed Kate standing in the doorway.
"Mr. Wallace said he needs that project done by the end of the day," Kate said, arms folded - and glaring at Michael.
"Don't worry-Dwight, get me up-no, dammit, not by the armpit! Just, just, just help me up-no, I'll get the chair myself-"
Kate rolled her eyes, then walked right to Michael's desk - as he was repositioning his chair - and cast her withering gaze upon him.
"I'll get right to it-no, Dwight, stop! Stop it! Don't touch her-thank you. And you" - he looked at Kate with trepidation - "can tell David this will be done by the end of business. Now, the rest of you, out! Out!"
Michael went back to furiously typing; Kate went back to reception; and the rest of the office looked towards Jim, Pam and Dwight for some kind of explanation of what was going on. Then they turned towards the front door, and the man who walked in, stopping at reception.
"May I help you?" Kate said with a touch of snark.
"Yes. My name is Tony DiNardo, and I'm the new salesman," he said, loudly. "So where do I sit?"
