Disclaimer: Not mine. (If you're bored of seeing the same disclaimer at the top of almost every chapter, try reading this one with a Scottish accent. Not only does it provide variation, but it's quite fun. Unless you're from Scotland….)

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up…I had a hard time writing it and I don't think it's exactly up to par, but I'll put it out there anyway and see what you think. Hopefully, if it stinks, I can redeem myself in the next chapter. And if it doesn't stink...phew.

Chapter 8: Free Willy

Oscar privileged the camera with a nice view of his tonsils. "It is way too early to be a-a-a-" – he yawned again – "-wake. And Dwight will show up eventually. Just cherish the time we have without him…."

"I don't care where we're going. I just want to find Dwight." Angela walked stiffly down the shaded trail, too nervous to look at the camera. "When I woke up, all his bedding was gone and Jim said that he had left around midnight, feeling sick from all those marshmallows…he didn't want to sleep in the cabin with us any more, in case he vomited…I warned him not to eat too many…they always make him nauseous later…."

Pam bit her lip in a futile attempt to conceal a smile. "I have no clue where we're headed or where Dwight is." She raised her eyebrows at something the camera man said. "I'm not lying!" She hid a grin behind her hand. "I'm a terrible liar. It'd be so obvious if I was fibbing." She full on beamed at the camera.

Angela plucked anxiously at the sleeve of Michael's jacket. "Where are we going?"

"Stop pestering me, Angela!" Michael snapped. "We're almost there."

"Jim said Dwight woke up in the middle of the night and felt sick, so he slept elsewhere. I looked, but he's not on or in the woods around the campsite! Will he be able to find us?"

"I'm sure he'll have no problem locating us," Jim said.

Angela looked hopeful. "Really?"

"Definitely," Jim reassured her. "If Dwight was queasy, he wouldn't have been able to wander too far, especially carrying a blown up air mattress."

"He didn't tell you where he was going last night?"

"Nope, and I didn't have time to ask. He just barged right out, one hand on his mouth, the other on his mattress."

Michael interrupted Jim's stream of impromptu lies. "We're here! We're here!"

"Wow! A pond!" Andy whooped. "There's even an island in the middle!"

He pointed to a blob in the center of the pond. Everyone followed his finger with their gazes. Angela screamed.

"THAT'S NO ISLAND! THAT'S DWIGHT!"

Upon hearing Angela shriek, Dwight jerked wide awake. He looked around blearily for a second before realizing he wasn't in a cabin. Dwight panicked and bolted upright like a jack-in-the-box. Yelling, he scrambled to his feet. His legs got tangled in his sleeping bag; he waved his arms frantically to keep his balance, but lost his battle with gravity, tipping sideways into the glassy water. Angela screamed again and clutched at her face as Dwight splashed noisily into the pond.

By the time Dwight had resurfaced, spluttering and flailing his arms, everyone but Angela was beside themselves with laughter.

"MAN OVERBOARD!" Creed hollered.

"He's gonna be wet…and covered in water!" Michael joked.

Karen used her sleeve to wipe tears of joy from her eyes. "How the hell did he end up in a lake?"
"Pond," Andy corrected, clutching a stitch in his side.

"Whatever," she giggled.

"I think I'm going to pee my pants!" Kevin announced, laughing uproariously.

Pam and Jim slapped five.

As soon as Dwight scrambled onto the beach, he bee lined for Jim.

"You," he uttered fiercely. He shook a dripping finger in Jim's direction. "YOU! You did this!"

"Did what?" Jim said innocently.

"THIS!" hollered Dwight. He gestured ferociously at his floating mattress. "You put my bed in a pond!"

"That's impossible," Jim said. "I didn't even know there was a pond here; Michael kept it a secret."

"And how could he have lifted you and your bed?" Pam added.

Dwight rounded on her. "I bet you helped! You always help Jim! Since you're always like" – Dwight put on a high falsetto – "Ooooh, Jim! I love you Jim! Ooooh, Jim, let's get married and have lots and lots of ugly babies!"

"Pam doesn't have a high voice like that, Dwight," said Phyllis.

"Yeah, well, their babies would still be ugly, so –"

Michael cut Dwight off. "Enough! I have no idea how this happened, because Jim said you were blowing chunks in the woods this morning, but here you are dripping wet in your underwear on the beach of my secret pond. And since we've established that Jim couldn't have stuck you and your bed in a pond all on his lonesome, you probably just sleep walked or something."

"Sleep walked?" Dwight roared. "Michael, what you're saying makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE! How could I sleepwalk and bring my mattress and my sleeping bag along? And I never told Jim I was sick!"

"Uh, yeah, you did," said Jim. "Last night. You probably just don't remember because you were really sleepwalking. I guess I didn't notice you were actually asleep when you were talking to me because I was so tired."

"This still makes no sense, Michael!"

Toby winked at Jim. "Actually, Michael makes perfect sense," he said.

Michael shot Toby a confused glance before turning back to Dwight. "See, Dwight? Toby agrees with me, which is something he never does, so…either he's running a dangerously high fever or you walk in your sleep." Michael stuck his palm on Toby's forehead. "Regular temperature…Dwight sleep walks," he confirmed.

"How could I carry my mattress to a pond I didn't know existed in my sleep?" Dwight demanded angrily.

"Well, you are a purple belt," said Jim.

"That means you're strong," Kevin added.

"And you have an impeccable sense of direction," said Phyllis, "living on a farm in the middle of nowhere and all."

Dwight went from furious to skeptical. "Still, none of this really fits together…I've never sleep walked before…."

"You don't know that," said Pam. "I mean, you've probably sleep walked tons of times, but you just ended up back in your bed and never knew."

Dwight scowled, but didn't argue. Jim smirked at the camera.

"Okay, so now that we have Dwight, let's play a bonding game!" Michael twittered.

"But I'm in my underwear," Dwight protested.

"Yeah, good point…" Michael replied, looking pointedly at anything but Dwight's soggy boxer shorts.

"Actually," Jim said, digging in his bag. "I have an extra change of clothes on me." He produced a shirt, pants, and boxers.

"Why are my clothes in your bag, Jim?" Dwight demanded.

Jim didn't miss a beat. "I like the way they smell."

"You smell my clothes?" said Dwight.

"Yeah," said Jim. "I'm just addicted to the scent of mildew."

Dwight snatched his clothes and trotted over to a bunch of trees to get dressed. Michael snorted. He then proceeded to conveniently put the matter of Dwight's nautical experiences out of his mind. The perpetrators were officially off the hook, without suffering more than fury and skepticism from Dwight.

"Nice." Kevin drew out the single syllable good and long for the camera.

"We did it! We did it!" Toby and Phyllis chanted at the camera.

Pam giggled. "He was still wearing his beet patterned boxer shorts. We got him so good!"

Jim bowed, grinning proudly.

"Dwight is so dumb," Michael said. "He sleep walked right into a pond that he didn't even know was there…wow."

Fully dressed, Dwight frowned at the camera. "I can't believe I sleep walk…I'll have to start locking myself into my bedroom at night…and maybe wear a straight jacket…you know, to protect people from my self…." He gazed absently into space for a few seconds before snapping back to reality and joining the rest of the group.

"Game time!" Michael crowed upon Dwight's return.

"Can we eat first?" Kevin asked.

Michael sighed. "Why are you always hungry?"

Kevin shrugged.

Michael sighed again, but dug sixteen mini boxes of Fruit Loops out of his bag all the same. He chucked them at his coworkers. "Dig in!"

"Michael, do you have any other kinds of cereal?" Angela eyed her colorful breakfast suspiciously.

"Nope," Michael replied. "Fruit Loops are the best cereal in the world! Eating other kinds of cereal…well, Angela, that's…a sin." He snorted.

Angela frowned at the slight to her holiness. "Do you have milk, Michael?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Bowls?"

"Negative."

"Spoons?"

"You wish."

Angela glowered at him and tore open her package of sugar cereal with more force than necessary.

"Okay!" Michael cried a couple of minutes and three boxes of cereal later. He tossed his empty breakfast containers back into his bag. "Everybody sit facing me!" Michael detached himself from the group, standing with his back to the water and his front to the trees. The still-hungry employees stowed their mostly untouched breakfasts in Michael's back pack before plopping onto the soft sand in front of their boss.

Michael said, "We're going to play…drum roll please!"

Dwight patted his hands on his thighs and said, "Dadadada!" like a drum, but the rest feigned stupid.

"'Drum roll please'?" Jim repeated. "How do you play that game?"

"I've never heard of it before," Pam said innocently.

Michael frowned. "That's not what I…I meant, like what Dwight is doing…so that I could announce that the game is…never mind."

"Wait," Jim said, pretending to be confused. "The game's called 'Never Mind' now?"