Disclaimer that I forgot to put in the first chapter: I don't own anything from The Office except a calendar, season DVDs, and a talking keychain. :-)
Bookybookbook: Thanks for the review! I'd basically be awful at writing a JAM story, so I decided to try something else. :-)
In a matter of about ten minutes, Michael has assembled a search party comprised of everyone in the office, whether they came voluntarily or not.
They wouldn't have been able to have a lunch break if they didn't partake in the search.
"Dwight, where's the last time you've seen this bobblehead of yours?" Michael asks.
"10:33 this morning," Dwight answers stiffly. "I went up to go get some more coffee, and when I got back, he was…gone!" His voice cracks a little, and Angela discreetly laces her fingers in between his. Karen glances at them and Angela's fingers retreat. Once she turns her attention back to the group, Angela's fingers are back.
"Dwight has very cold hands," she informs us.
Stanley yawns. Michael points at him and yelps, "There'll be no yawning on this mission, mister! Either you're in or you're out!"
"I'm out," Stanley mutters, retreating to his desk. Michael scurries in front of him and sits on his chair.
"Na-uh uh uh," he chides. "No one leaves until this mystery is unmystery-fied! Now, we'll just trust that you're sorry, and let's move on, shall we?"
"Don't you mean 'unmystified'?" Phyllis asks.
"That's not a word!"
"But it sounds better than 'unmystery-fied'," Kelly points out. Michael turns to the camera and smiles rather awkwardly.
"That is a genuine, 100 real word," he insists. "My English teacher taught me that word. If you go get a dictionary and look up that word, you'll see it, and in little subtitles, it'll say 'Word generously donated by Michael Scott of Dunder Mifflin Paper Products.' You bet it will."
Michael pulls a miner's helmet out of his desk drawer and hands it to Pam. "Pam, we need someone to go check under all the desks and everywhere where something could be hiding," he tells her.
"Why do I have to do it?" she asks.
"Because you're the smallest," he explains, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.
Angela walks to them nonchalantly and takes the helmet out of Michael's hand. "I'll do it," she says. "I'm smaller than Pam, anyway."
"Angela seems pretty worried about this Dwight bobblehead, you know? I mean, I didn't think she of all people would be worried about it at all, but hey, what're you gonna do? Maybe she's just trying to turn over a new leaf. I don't think it's working. If it was working, she would've had to take down that creepy baby poster by her desk, and she should put her hair up or something, make it look more pretty, y'know? There could be lots of things she could do, but if she doesn't want to and wants to stay all mouse-looking or whatever, that's fine. It'd be a major challenge for her to change her no-fun attitude thing. I mean, who hates fun?…Angela, I guess," Kelly explains breathlessly to the camera. Her mini-speech is complete with hand motions.
After about five minutes that were filled with about 10 of suspense, Angela resurfaces. She stands up and straightens her skirt, her stern eyes boring holes into everyone around her.
"I found this," she reports, thrusting it at Michael. Michael takes the crumpled piece of paper and opens it.
"It's obvious what you guys are all looking for. A miniature bobblehead of Dwight, perhaps? Yeah, I'll bet that's it. Do you know where it is? Yeah, I'll bet you don't. Well, just to let you know, Little Dwight is fine. For now. But by the end of the day, if you can't find him…then…well, he's ours," Michael reads aloud, "for-evah." The word "forever" he enunciates like Squints did in The Sandlot.
"For…evah," Dwight parrots, crestfallen. Suddenly, he straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "Well, what're we waiting for? Let's get this tested! Let's do something! We only have until the end of the day, people! Come on, move it, move it, move it!" He ushers them into the conference room, gives the camera a look, and shuts the door.