Chapter II: Percy, Dwight and the Ladder of Destiny

Percy took a break from attempting to decipher the company's expense report form, instead watching Jim meticulously construct a tower of Dwight's pens. Dwight himself was engrossed in a pamphlet titled Bear Breeding for Dummies. It looked awfully similar to the Pig Breeding for Dummies pamphlet he had been reading the day before.

Dwight, seemingly noticing Percy's eyes on him, sat up. "So, Jackson," he announced. "I trust your first week of orientation has adequately prepared you for the rigors of the paper industry?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure?" Percy flicked the mouse wheel on his computer. "I think I got the hang of these spreadsheets."

Being back in the mortal world meant having to get used to their technology. So far, his dyslexia wasn't making it easy.

"Spreadsheets, Jackson? Please." Dwight scoffed. "Those are child's play. A true salesman proves himself in the field, face-to-face with the client."

Jim raised a finger. "I actually think that—"

"Can it, Halpert." Dwight interjected, leaning closer to Percy over the table. "I have been bestowed a special assignment. You are more than welcome to come with, Jackson. A trial by fire, if you will."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Trial by fire? What, are we going to set fire to some competitor's stock?"

Dwight's eyes gleamed. "Wouldn't that be something? But no, this requires a different kind of... strategy." He glanced around, then leaned in even closer. Percy tried not to notice his feet flailing in the air. "Meet me by the back entrance in five minutes. And bring... a ladder."

With a wiggle that looked more worm-like than bear, Dwight flopped off the desk before strutting out of the office.

A ladder? What the hell kind of 'special assignment' required a ladder? Percy stared at his half-filled spreadsheets.

"You know what he's talking about?" Percy then looked at Jim.

"No idea, man." Jim shrugged, taking another pen from Dwight's desk and adding it to the tower. "But there's a ladder down in the warehouse."

-Ω-

The warehouse was bustling when Percy made his way downstairs. Boxes of paper shuffled around, and the distinct hum of a forklift echoed through the space. He spotted somebody at the center of it all, clipboard in hand, barking orders.

Percy cleared his throat. "Uh, hey. I'm Percy. Jim said I could grab a ladder?"

The big man looked up from his clipboard, eyeing Percy with mild amusement. His name tag read Darryl. "You sure you know how to use one?"

"I mean, I've climbed a few things before," Percy replied. Not a lie.

Darryl smirked. "Fair enough. Just don't sue us if you fall." He nodded toward the far corner of the warehouse. "Ladders are over there."

Percy made his way toward the stack, but before he could grab one, a voice called out, "So you're the new guy?"

He turned to see the rest of the warehouse workers watching him with varying degrees of curiosity. One of them, a tall guy named Lonny, crossed his arms. "Heard Dwight's got you running errands already."

Percy sighed. "Yeah, apparently I've been 'bestowed' a special assignment."

The warehouse crew exchanged knowing looks before bursting into laughter.

"Man, they got you good," Darryl said, shaking his head. "Whatever they're planning, I guarantee it's gonna be dumb."

Percy chuckled along with them. "That seems to be a running theme around here."

-Ω-

Percy lugged the ladder into the alleyway, where Dwight was waiting, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Alright, Jackson," Dwight said, his voice hushed. "Our mission, should we choose to accept it..." He paused for dramatic effect. "Is to acquire intel."

Percy frowned. "Intel? On who?"

"Our rivals, Jackson! Paper R Us!" Dwight hissed. "Michael suspects they're planning a hostile takeover. We need to get our hands on their client list."

Percy shook his head. "And you think a ladder is going to help us do that?"

Dwight grinned. "Trust me, Jackson. I have a plan."

-Ω-

"Remember," Dwight whispered, adjusting his fake Volunteer Sheriff's Deputy badge with a serious expression. "Confidence is key. We are maintenance men, here to provide a vital service."

Percy stared at Dwight as straight a face as possible, unsure how masquerading as a Volunteer Sheriff's Deputy who was masquerading as a maintenance man was a good idea. Hell, even the camera guy for the documentary crew was wearing a similar getup. Percy tried to ignore him. The whole documentary thing was still very weird in his mind.

They stood outside the doors of Paper R Us, the ladder casually slung over Dwight's shoulder and a toolbox dangling from Percy's hand. Dwight, in his infinite wisdom, had decided the best way to infiltrate the enemy camp was to simply walk in the front door.

"Maintenance men?" Percy questioned, barely containing his amusement. "Dwight, we're still in our suits. We don't have uniforms."

"Uniforms are for the weak, Jackson," Dwight declared, puffing out his chest. "A true master of disguise needs only the tools of the trade and an air of authority." He gestured at the ladder and toolbox. "Behold! Our weapons of deception."

Percy bit back his tongue. In terms of stupid stuff he'd done, this had to be up there. But then again, he'd staved off enemies with a 'ballpoint pen,' so maybe he wasn't one to judge.

They strode through the lobby, ignoring the curious glances from the receptionist. Dwight, with his air of self-importance, marched toward the main office, Percy trailing behind him, trying not to make eye-contact with anybody. And to his astonishment, no one questioned them. Employees simply moved aside as Dwight weaved through the maze of cubicles. Percy felt like he was in a dream, where logic and reason had taken a backseat to absurdity.

"See, Jackson?" Dwight had a smug grin on his face. "Confidence. It's the key to success in any endeavor, be it selling paper or stealing corporate secrets."

Percy was tempted to say, "and fighting gorgons too."

They soon reached a closed door marked 'Executive Suite.' Dwight paused, his eyes gleaming. "The client list," he whispered. "It has to be in there."

Inside, the office made Michael's look like a storage closet. A mahogany desk dominated the center of the room, and a plush leather chair sat behind it.

"They sell a lot more paper than us, huh?" Percy muttered.

Dwight ignored him, rummaging through drawers before triumphantly producing a thick folder labeled 'Client Information.'

"Victory is ours!" Dwight pumped his fist in the air before taking him by the shoulder. "You know, Jackson," he said, "you're not half bad. You have a natural talent for subterfuge."

"Thanks Dwight."

If this was what being a paper salesman was like, maybe it wouldn't be so boring after all.

-Ω-

The aroma of burnt popcorn and questionable takeout permeated the Dunder Mifflin office as lunchtime approached. Percy, having barely escaped the clutches of Angela's disapproving gaze in the breakroom, was startled by a sudden summons.

"Percy Jackson," Michael's voice boomed through the office, "to the conference room! Lunch with the boss!"

Percy exchanged a glance with Jim, who shrugged with a playful 'who knows?' expression. Cautiously, he entered the conference room, where Michael was already seated at the head of the table, a spread of fast food containers littering the surface.

"Come in, come in, my young apprentice!" Michael exclaimed, gesturing towards a seat beside him. "Let's break bread together, shall we?"

Percy hesitantly took his seat, eyeing the assortment of burgers, fries, and suspiciously soggy onion rings with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

"So, Percy," Michael began, unwrapping a burger with gusto, "tell me, how was your first mornings in the trenches of the paper industry?"

Percy scratched the back of his neck. "Well, Michael, Dwight took me on a little... field trip. We managed to acquire the client list of our rival company."

Michael choked on his burger, his eyes widening in surprise. "Client list? What client list?"

Percy glanced towards the glass wall of the conference room, where Dwight and Jim were engaged in a silent, frantic conversation. Dwight was shaking his head vigorously at Percy, while Jim was miming a 'zip it' gesture with exaggerated urgency. Percy, sensing he'd stumbled onto something he wasn't supposed to know, decided to backpedal.

"Oh, uh, nothing, Michael," he said quickly. "Just, you know, getting to know the competition."

Michael, frowned, shrugged and resumed his assault on the burger. "Competition, schmompetition! We're Dunder Mifflin, the best in the business! Nobody can touch us, not with our superior customer service and... and..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

"Paper?" Percy offered helpfully.

"Yes! Paper!" Michael declared, as if it were a profound revelation. "The backbone of any successful office! Speaking of which," He launched into a rambling anecdote about the time he accidentally stapled his own hand, leaving Percy convinced that he definitely had been transported into an alternate reality.

After what felt like an eternity, the lunch finally concluded. As Percy made his escape, he was intercepted by Dwight and Jim, who pulled him aside.

"Percy," Jim began, his voice low, "about that client list..."

"Yeah," Dwight chimed in, his eyes darting nervously, "that information is strictly confidential. For sales staff only."

Percy frowned. "Why the secrecy? I thought Michael was the boss? Didn't you say he's the one that gave you the mission?"

Jim and Dwight exchanged a look. "Technically, yes he is," Jim explained, "but Michael isn't exactly known for his—how do I say this? Discretion."

Dwight nodded in agreement. "If he got his hands on that client list, he'd probably try to steal the clients for himself, or worse, trade them for magic beans."

Percy raised his brow. "Magic beans? Seriously?"

"You never know with Michael," Jim said with a shrug.

"So he didn't actually tell you to go steal the client list?"

"No, of course not! He could've never thought of something that smart." Dwight patted Percy on the shoulder. "I am, however, sorry for lying to you, but it was important to—"

"—protect the integrity of the mission?" Percy finished.

Dwight nodded solemnly. "Exactly. You get the idea, Jackson. We had to make sure that you weren't a mole for the other side."

Percy itched the side of his neck. "Right. Of course."

-Ω-

"So," Pam said, leaning forward as Percy passed by her, "I hear you and Dwight went full James Bond today."

"You could say that," Percy scooped a handful of jelly beans from her dispenser. "I still don't know how we got away with it."

Pam chuckled. "That's just how it works around here as well. As long as you act like you belong, no one asks questions."

"Should I be impressed? Or terrified."

Pam smirked. "Little of both, probably. But hey, you're fitting in nicely here."

Percy smiled. "Thanks, Pam. I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."

She studied him for a moment, he did the same. She was attractive, in the sort of I-need-this-woman-to-be-my-wife type of way. His mind quickly raced to imagining him taking her back to meet his mom.

Pam curled her hair behind her ear. "You know, you're different from most of the new guys. Dwight doesn't just let anyone in on his 'missions,' you know."

Percy snorted. "Yeah, I feel so honored."

Pam laughed. Loud enough to turn some their direction. "You should. It's weird, but in a way, it means he respects you."

Percy glanced over at Dwight, who was currently inspecting his stapler for gods knows why. "Good to know."

"Welcome to Scranton," Pam shooed him away as her phone began to ring. "It only gets weirder from here."

Author's Note:

The story shall continue! Thank you for all the love so far :) Hope you reading as much as I enjoy writing this story :)