CUT TO COMMERCIAL
INT. MICHAEL'S OFFICE
(Jim knocks on the side of the door.)
JIM: You wanted to see me?
(Michael swivels around. His shirt remains open.)
MICHAEL: Yeah, take a seat.
JIM: Everything okay?
MICHAEL: Yeah. I just … you seem like a put-together kind of guy. Great job. Good looking. Hot girlfriend.
JIM: Um, Michael, some might say you also have those things.
MICHAEL: (Ignoring him) I just thought I would be further along. I'm forty-three. I'm unmarried. No kids. Hell, even Toby found someone to marry him and (gags) have a kid with him.
JIM: But now you've got the hockey thing.
MICHAEL: Don't be stupid. I'm never going to make it. Never going to happen. I will work here until I'm sixty-five. Nine-to-five for twenty-two more years.
(Both Michael and Jim are sobered by the thought.)
JIM: Thirty-seven.
MICHAEL: Thirty-seven what?
JIM: Years. I could be working here for thirty-seven more years. Wow.
MICHAEL: Well, you're still young. Marry Pam, spit out a few kids, live the dream. I have a kid now, God, I'll be dead by the time they get to college.
(Jim doesn't even flinch.)
JIM: Uh huh.
MICHAEL: Yep.
JIM: Yep. Dead.
MICHAEL: Dead as a … skunk.
CUT TO RECEPTION
(Jim walks up.)
PAM: You two were in there for a while.
JIM: Yeah. (Picks out a piece of candy)
PAM: Hey, look at this. (Gives Jim a piece of paper) Corporate saw the logos I drew. They want me to come down, this weekend!
JIM: All right Pam! (High five) This is great! I'm really proud of you. (Leans over to kiss her)
PAM: Thanks, Jim.
JIM: This calls for a celebration. Dinner tonight. Your choice.
PAM: Yay! Oh, I almost forgot, Ryan mentioned the possibility of a permanent position in New York. He said their graphic designer is due for retirement anyway.
(Jim is subtly less excited.)
JIM: That's … that would be awesome. It's what you've always wanted.
PAM: But if I got it, which I probably won't, but if I did, I wouldn't go unless you wanted to come with me.
JIM: Oh, no Pam.
PAM: You wouldn't come with me?
JIM: No, I mean, you should definitely go, if they want you.
PAM: And you'd come with me?
JIM: (Sweetly) Of course.
(The phone rings.)
PAM: Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam.
(She mouths "I love you" to Jim. He smiles and turns to walk back to his desk. We see his face fall.)
CUT TO BREAK ROOM
(Michael is chewing idly on a Luna bar. He stops, realizes he hates it, and puts it down.)
(Creed enters.)
CREED: Michael, what kind of steroids do you need? I have a friend sitting on a shipment of Strychnine. It ain't fancy, and it might kill you, but the price is unbelievable.
(Michael leans back and stares at Creed.)
MICHAEL: How much?
CUT TO ACCOUNTING
(Jim walks over and hands a folder to Kevin.)
JIM: Thanks, Kev.
KEVIN: Hey, Jim, are you coming to our concert tonight? Scrantonicity Two, my band, is battling, Scrantonicity One, the evil band, and the loser has to pick a different name.
JIM: Sounds great, but actually I'm taking Pam out to dinner.
KEVIN: Nice.
JIM: Yeah, but good luck!
KEVIN: Thanks. Oh, we're also auditioning for a backup guitarist. Pam said you could play.
JIM: She did? I don't really-
KEVIN: Our practice schedule is really lenient. Most of the time we just buy pizza and watch T.V. It's great.
JIM: That does sound great, but I haven't really played in a long time.
KEVIN: Well, let me know if you change your mind.
JIM: I will.
CUT TO SHOT OF JIM'S COMPUTER SCREEN
(He has the Second Life game open. His character is flying around.)
(Jim notices the camera is watching and closes the program.)
CUT TO INDIVIDUAL SHOT OF JIM
JIM: Yeah, when I was in college I wanted to be a journalist. Even younger than that, probably from age twelve, I had this dream of being a sports writer. But things don't always work out like you planned. And for the better, I think.
CUT TO THE OFFICE
(Jim looks over at Pam. She gives him a cheerful wave.)
(Dwight pulls nose hairs while on the phone.)
JIM (V.O.): If I was a sports writer in Philadelphia, I would never have met Pam. I also wouldn't have met Dwight. I can't imagine life without him.
CUT TO INDIVIDUAL SHOT OF JIM
JIM: Well, actually I can, and it would be incredible. And guitar, that's something I can do any time, it's not a big deal. Just … I think it's a little too late to start over. I'd have to get an internship, work a few years. And there's only so many sports writing positions out there. It's just, it's impractical. I'm happy where I'm at now.
(He looks away from the camera.)
CUT TO THE OFFICE
(The employees are leaving for the day.)
(Jan enters. She looks inside the office, where we see Michael staring out the window.)
CUT TO MICHAEL'S OFFICE
JAN: Hey, babe. Feeling better?
MICHAEL: Hey, Jan.
JAN: Are you still thinking about the typing thing?
MICHAEL: No, not anymore. That is the least of my worries.
JAN: Well, what is the greatest of your worries, Michael?
MICHAEL: We're so old.
(Jan is affronted.)
MICHAEL: Nothing turned out like it was supposed to. No wife, no kids. I live in a condo.
JAN: Well, everyone has to start somewhere. As for a wife and kids … maybe those things are closer than you think.
MICHAEL: They are?
JAN: What do you think we've been doing together all this time? Just having fun?
MICHAEL: Yes? I mean, no?
JAN: Michael, if you're serious about having children, then maybe it's time we, you know …
MICHAEL: But we have sex all the time.
JAN: Right. But I've been on birth control.
MICHAEL: Oh, really? That explains it.
JAN: But before we do that, maybe we'd better, you know …
(It takes Michael a few seconds to take the hint.)
CUT TO INDIVIDUAL SHOT OF MICHAEL
(He's got a self-satisfied grin on his face.)
MICHAEL: Forty-three ain't that old.
CUT TO COMMERCIAL
INT. THE OFFICE
INDIVIDUAL SHOT OF ANDY
ANDY: Yeah, I'm a professional athlete. Been one since college.
EXT. COLLECTIBLE CARD STORE
(Andy checks to make sure no one's watching and slips inside. We see him sitting down across from small children playing some kind of card game. He celebrates zealously. The kids aren't so happy.)
ANDY (V.O.): I'd rather not say in what sport. My fraternity bros would kill me if they found out. But I've won over three thousand dollars in prize money and store credit.
CUT BACK TO ANDY
ANDY: So … pretty sweet.
CUT TO BLACK