"Conference room everybody!" Michael called everyone out of their workspaces. Dwight was the only one standing as everyone else rolled their eyes or ignored Michael altogether. "I know you had a big night last night…Meredith," he nodded to the redhead who was passed out in her chair, head sagging off her shoulder, "but I'm glad you didn't let any hangovers keep you from Ye olde Dunder Miff!" He stretched his arms, walking like a zombie for no apparent reason. He took a seat on Jim's desk, who muttered a goodbye to whomever he was talking to and looking up at Michael, pursing his lips in a tight, closed smile. "Anything exciting happen to you last night Jimbo? Win some money? Get a girlfriend?"
"No." Jim replied humorlessly. He stared at Michael blankly who stared back with a glare usually reserved for when he spoke with Toby.

"Conference room!" He said, standing. Pam stood up from her desk and straightened her kaki skirt. She pushed hair behind her ear as she walked silently past Jim, smiling sympathetically. Jim sighed and stood, glancing into the camera as he entered the conference room, taking a seat in the back, sandwiched between Kevin and Ryan.

"Big call this morning, not from Jan, but from someone above Jan," Michael said, "well not literally," he laughed, waiting for someone to get the joke. "That's what she said! Get it?" He turned to the camera. "Above Jan?"

"I thought you and Jan had a thing?" said Kelly. Michael laughed, obviously pleased.

"We did. Used to. History. Put it in the past. Locked it up and threw away the key. That was before I got a girlfriend." He looked significantly into the camera, eyebrows raised.

"Did you bring us in here to talk about your girlfriend?" Angela asked him, who was seated next to Pam.

"Uh, no." Michael said. "The call was from the super elite corporate guys, or who I like to call them – A-holes. Just kidding!" He looked into the camera, suddenly serious. "Kidding. Really. I respect them. I like this job." He paused.

"As you all know, the annual Dunder Mifflin Company mixer is coming up…great chances to have Dunder Mifflin incestuous relationships!" He rubbed his hands together. "that is, unless you already have an office relationship," he eyed Pam, who usually would have blushed but continued to stare at her shoes. "But this year, no more boring, droning lectures about paper…but music and people and dances!"

No one looked especially pleased.

"It's a party! All the paper guys! And since we, well, mostly me, pulled off Casino Night…they want your input on what to do!" Michael held up a stack of papers. "Surveys. Fill them out, give them to me and I will fax them over," his voice got slower, "one by one…to Corporate…you know what, give them to Dwight. He will fax them." Dwight grinned at the responsibility. "Pam, pass these out?" The camera panned over as she shrugged and shook her head, staring blankly at the forms still in Michael's hands.

"Question: will we be required to bring dates?" Dwight shot a significant look to Angela, who was suddenly very interested in her fingernails. Kelly was smiling brightly in Ryan's direction and Jim was staring at his feet.

"Absolutely." Michael announced.

----

"Yeah, I'm excited," said Michael. "I already downloaded videos of new dance moves so I can impress some people. I already know the Macarena." He jumped out of his seat and began to sing, his arms moving wildly around his body. "Oh Macarena Macarena Macaroni, Oh Mambolena, Markalisa, and tony…it goes something like that." He took his hands off his hips and sat down.

---

"Ohmigosh, I'm like so excited. I've waited for forever to try out those new moves Beyonce does on her new video with Jay Z…I look really good at it. Really good. Ryan will love it." Kelly grinned into the camera.

---

Angela's stared into the camera, hair pushed severely into a bun.

"I don't dance."

---

"And because of the dancing and how formal this is going to be, I've decided to give you guys a treat. We're going to have ballroom dancing lessons!" Kelly was the only one who reacted, clapping her hands joyously.

"Was this approved by corporate?" Toby asked.

"Yes." Michael said too quickly. "Well, no. Kind of." He furrowed his eyebrows. "How about you don't worry about it. And good luck finding a dance partner. You're divorced." Toby rolled his eyes and sat back down.

"When are we leaving?"

"Today. After lunch. Get your work done people because soon you will be getting your dance on!" He pumped his fists. "Even you, Creed," who snored so loud that he woke up.

"Huh?"

---

"Am I excited for the party?" Jim asked, his hair looking more ruffled than usual. "No. But I'll get to meet the guys who I'll be working with when I transfer, so yeah, kind of." The camera guy murmured something to which Jim replied, "yeah. 'when.' Not 'if'. I'm leaving after I return from Australia." He nodded for finality and stood up to leave.

---

"This is actually a really good idea," said Pam's talking head. "I mean the dancing lessons. I've wanted to learn how to dance for forever…for the wedding…" She stopped talking. The camera man asked her a question. "What?" she asked with suspicion. "Of course the wedding's still on…what do you know about last night?"

---

"Oh yeah," Michael said, coming out of his office. "We're carpooling to the dance stude-jo. No sense in all of us taking our own cars! Gas prices. So who wants to drive?" No one volunteered. Dwight raised his hand unusually high.

"I'll take my car. It fits four."

"Gross, Dwight, your car is disgusting." Michael said.

"No its not. We got that dead chipmunk out forever ago." He nodded at the camera. Pam scrunched her nose.

"Fine," Michael said. "I'll drive. I can take Ryan, Jim and…" he searched the room for someone worthy of his car. "Pam. Three others go in Dwights and everyone else can go in Meredith's van." He turned to walk away. "Though someone else might want to drive," he added as an afterthought. Phyllis turned to look at Meredith, drooling in her sleep, and quickly turned away.

---

"At least I don't have to ride with Kelly," said Ryan. "Maybe I could sprain my ankle and wouldn't have to dance…"

---

"Who will I dance with?" Dwight asked. "Let's just say I have someone in mind…"

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