(Dwight Schrute; The Office (US Version))
((Minor spoilers up through the first part of S3. Any links in the application or comments will be spoilerific as well. You have been warned.))
((Approved by Michael- and Jim-muns))A man strode into the Sorting Room, dressed in khakis and a green dress shirt, tie carefully straight, a look of extreme
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Pens! Ah, sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you!
I will vote you for Hufflepuff in exchange for a box of ballpoints and a box of felt-tips. Black, of course.
*on her shoulder, Galahad bleeks in her ear*
- and some deer jerky for the treecat here. Do we have a deal?
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Ahh. I should hit the other guy up for the pens, then? Gotcha. You don't know how weird it is living in a culture without little things you're used to like that.
Excellent! You can send it to Laura, in Hufflepuff. Which is where I'm voting you, of course.
Any thoughts on where I should vote the other guy?
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Wait... Hufflepuff? Attention caught once more by Laura, Dwight turned back. "Laura. And cat...thing. A pleasure. Perhaps you can explain to me exactly what you're voting before I accept it." And where to vote Jim? A very devious smile crossed Dwight's face. "Do you have a house for scheming liars who waste time and like to prank innocent workers? That's where he should go," Dwight jerked his head towards Jim.
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Walking briskly over to Dwight, he simply said in a slightly irritated voice, "Wellllllll, wellllllll, Dwight. Nice of you to join me here. Took you long enough. I had to run The Dundies without you! Wheeeeeeeere have you been?"
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His sooper sekrit mission was, for the moment, forgotten. His main job was to be there for Michael. And he couldn't be there for him while he was here for him. So, there he would be.
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"Yeah, well, I've been waiting here for you guys for MONTHS. I even had to do The Dundies without you - ALL of you! And that - that SUCKED, Dwight. That SUCKED, because doing my Ping impersonation for just myself was NOT fun, especially without your sound effects on the keyboard." That was the closest Michael would get to admitting that he had wanted Dwight there, and in spite of this veiled admission, Michael still looked pretty annoyed.
But his expression softened slightly into something more benevolent - something deliberately benevolent, in fact - in light of Dwight's apologies and sworn allegiance. After all, a good manager makes his employees feel as though there is honor in groveling. Of course, everyone knows that groveling makes one look ( ... )
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At Michael's mention of the demotion, though, Dwight's pen stilled for a second and he glanced up at Michael. "I think you mean Assistant Regional Manager, Michael. Or have you forgotten my promotion?"
That tone of voice he knew well and Dwight's expression got intense. "Tell me everything. You can trust me. Just tell me what you need me to do, Michael." He paused. "Question: Does this involve disposal of bodies? If so, how many and how deep in the ground do I need to go to avoid upheaval?"
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"Yes, Mose is my best friend." Dwight's face relaxed into a smile and he looked around the room. "Or, at least, he is unless I find someone here to be my best friend. Then I probably won't talk to him much anymore."
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I mean-! *blushes furiously* You grew up on a farm? Where? That's what I really meant to say. I didn't mean to say what I did before. Um. I don't think. But... you- you do?
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*politely looks at the picture and struggle for words- what can you say about a photo of a field?* That looks very... very pleasant. It reminds me of when I was younger. *smiles* My father and I used to perform at country fairs in France. We staid at farmhouses until the fairs moved on. Everyone was always so kind and welcoming! So, yes, I do like farms. Where's Scranton?
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