"Jim! Hey!" It was Jim! In a funny hat! Exclamation point!
"I didn't know you were Jewish." A terrible, terrible thought occurred to Kelly. "Does Michael know?" Seriously, she did not need to deal with circumcision jokes in the office.
"Hey, Kelly!" Right now, Jim was in a generous mood, so Kelly was on his 'cool' list. He waved her over with a grin. "Would you like to join my Seder? It's open to everyone."
It hadn't occurred to him to actually pretend to be Jewish, but now that he was in, he might as well go in all the way. He smiled innocently at her. "I have nothing to hide. My people are a strong one."
"What's a Seder? It is like a Jewish Easter?" Maybe there would be Cadburry eggs! She smiled and took a seat.
"Right." Subconsciously, she looked around for Michael. "Are you sure? Because I can totally keep a secret." No fabulous perks came with being Jewish. Just that Adam Sandler song. Over, and over again. Modified to suit all holidays.
"...Kinda, yeah." Close enough, he guessed. "Sort of. You know, the first Easter was right after Passover." That much was definitely true.
Jim begged to differ. There was one fabulous perk that came with being Jewish, right now, which was being highly entertained. "I have nothing to be ashamed of," he said complacently, folding his hands in his lap with a Zen-like expression.
Really, it was dead boring about here with Fred all popcornafied. He'd set off dungbombs in the Popcorn Room in tribute, and was now back on his way to Gryffindor to continue work on the latest line of Eternally Chewing Gum (now in raspberry and tobacco flavours!) when he spotted a bloke wearing an odd hat, sitting expectantly at the head of a table.
Never one to disappoint (or to miss a party!), George simply took a seat as if that'd been his sole purpose in coming through the room. Nodding soberly to Jim, George pulled out his wand and deftly transfigured a spare dungbomb into his own hat. Setting it at a jaunty angle, George sat ramrod straight and waited. The propellers twirled slightly, occasionally letting off an odd spark or two.
Jim looked complacently over at George as the boy approached, returning the nod that was offered as if he'd known him forever and had been expecting his attendance. Which, of course, was untrue, as he'd never seen the kid before in his life, but hey -- no point in ruining the image.
When the hat was transfigured, he raised a brow, then frowned disapprovingly at George. "Is that supposed to be an insult?" he asked in a cool voice. Reaching over, he plucked the beanie from George's head and yanked the propeller out, then replaced it. He clucked his tongue at George and set the propeller aside. "That's supposed to be for Elijah," he chided.
Raising one eyebrow, George shrugged. "I always thought Elijah was a propeller kind of bloke."
Of course, George had no idea who Elijah was or why he'd not appreciate a good hat. But the bloke sounded as if he could use a U-No-Poo product. Adjusting his now propeller-less hat, George surveyed the spread.
"So, not quite yet ace with the cooking spells, yeah?" he clucked his tongue sadly. "Don't worry. You'll get it eventually. In the meantime, if you want a proper spread, we can just whistle up a house-elf."
"I would just like to say, that I totally support Jim's friend Elijah's right to express his religion through propellers. Even if they're tacky, and used by children's party performers. And cartoon characters." People had a right to be tacky!
"Whoa whoa WHOA, what is this?" An unmistakable, overly exuberant voice boomed out over the Passover table, shortly followed by its owner, bearing a smarmy smile and a cheap suit. A man's suit. Perhaps. "I~~...don't remember telling the Party Planning Committee to throw any shindigs, buuuut - "
Quickly, Michael was distracted by Jim's yarmulke, to which he pointed and laughed loudly. "What is that, Jim? Thaaaaaat...just looks ridiculous. Hope you don't let Pam get a look at you in it."
Next, his attentions were turned to the Seder plate, and once again, he started laughing. "Wuhhhh-how! WOW! Pretty sparse refreshments. I think you should turn this into a luau, with pineapples and a big, roasted pig."
Despite his criticisms, however, he took a seat at the table, because if there was a party going on, he wanted to be a part of the action. "Well...all right, let's get this party started...right? Let's get this party started quickly....right? Hoooo-ooooh hooooooo-ooooooh!" Unfortunately for Jim, Kelly, and George, Michael proceeded to
( ... )
Well, this bird was a bit odd, but George simply nodded gravely back at her. "Elijah is choked up gratitude, he is. None better." Now, he really had no idea what was going on, but one didn't grow up with Percy without being able to fake comprehension of insanity fairly well. As requested, George was about to deliver a homily on the dungbomb's place in a well-rounded prankster's repertoire when some nutter busted in.
All George could do was stare. It wasn't polite to gape at escapees from St. Mungos, but really, who could help it? Besides, insane though he may be, this bloke was a tool. As such -
Oh, wait. WAIT.
This was the bloke his mum had hexed to think he was gay. A wicked glimmer flickered across George's expression in a flash (along with a quick thought that he really wished Fred was here - his twin'd get a kick out of messing about this this wanker). One eyebrow raised and George said, soberly, "Oh, yeah, mate. We're getting loads of parties started. But, really, we were in the middle of a game. But you probably
( ... )
Oy gevalt, Michael Scott had crashed the Seder. Jim stifled a sigh and exchanged a forlorn look with the camera George and Kelly, then lifted a hand in greeting to Michael. "Michael. Welcome. We were just about to begin our--"
And then George interjected. Jim blinked curiously over at him, but as soon as he caught on, he started to smile again. "I'm sure you'll catch up soon," he said placatingly to George. "Anyway, yeah, I was about to say, we're playing this game, um..." He scratched the back of his neck and frowned. "I can explain it to you, I guess, but it's kind of tough. It would take a really long time."
Michael. If Kelly could just plan his wedding, without ever having to actually talk to him...that would be the best thing ever. She was about to say a polite greeting, when she noticed that suit. "Mi- Is that suit from fashion bug? Because that print is totally part of their spring line."
"Yeah. Really, really, hard." Kelly had worked at Dunder-Mifflin long enough to know what was up. She was with it.
Comments 23
"I didn't know you were Jewish." A terrible, terrible thought occurred to Kelly. "Does Michael know?" Seriously, she did not need to deal with circumcision jokes in the office.
Reply
It hadn't occurred to him to actually pretend to be Jewish, but now that he was in, he might as well go in all the way. He smiled innocently at her. "I have nothing to hide. My people are a strong one."
Reply
"Right." Subconsciously, she looked around for Michael. "Are you sure? Because I can totally keep a secret." No fabulous perks came with being Jewish. Just that Adam Sandler song. Over, and over again. Modified to suit all holidays.
Reply
Jim begged to differ. There was one fabulous perk that came with being Jewish, right now, which was being highly entertained. "I have nothing to be ashamed of," he said complacently, folding his hands in his lap with a Zen-like expression.
Reply
Never one to disappoint (or to miss a party!), George simply took a seat as if that'd been his sole purpose in coming through the room. Nodding soberly to Jim, George pulled out his wand and deftly transfigured a spare dungbomb into his own hat. Setting it at a jaunty angle, George sat ramrod straight and waited. The propellers twirled slightly, occasionally letting off an odd spark or two.
Reply
When the hat was transfigured, he raised a brow, then frowned disapprovingly at George. "Is that supposed to be an insult?" he asked in a cool voice. Reaching over, he plucked the beanie from George's head and yanked the propeller out, then replaced it. He clucked his tongue at George and set the propeller aside. "That's supposed to be for Elijah," he chided.
Reply
Of course, George had no idea who Elijah was or why he'd not appreciate a good hat. But the bloke sounded as if he could use a U-No-Poo product. Adjusting his now propeller-less hat, George surveyed the spread.
"So, not quite yet ace with the cooking spells, yeah?" he clucked his tongue sadly. "Don't worry. You'll get it eventually. In the meantime, if you want a proper spread, we can just whistle up a house-elf."
Reply
Reply
Quickly, Michael was distracted by Jim's yarmulke, to which he pointed and laughed loudly. "What is that, Jim? Thaaaaaat...just looks ridiculous. Hope you don't let Pam get a look at you in it."
Next, his attentions were turned to the Seder plate, and once again, he started laughing. "Wuhhhh-how! WOW! Pretty sparse refreshments. I think you should turn this into a luau, with pineapples and a big, roasted pig."
Despite his criticisms, however, he took a seat at the table, because if there was a party going on, he wanted to be a part of the action. "Well...all right, let's get this party started...right? Let's get this party started quickly....right? Hoooo-ooooh hooooooo-ooooooh!" Unfortunately for Jim, Kelly, and George, Michael proceeded to ( ... )
Reply
All George could do was stare. It wasn't polite to gape at escapees from St. Mungos, but really, who could help it? Besides, insane though he may be, this bloke was a tool. As such -
Oh, wait. WAIT.
This was the bloke his mum had hexed to think he was gay. A wicked glimmer flickered across George's expression in a flash (along with a quick thought that he really wished Fred was here - his twin'd get a kick out of messing about this this wanker). One eyebrow raised and George said, soberly, "Oh, yeah, mate. We're getting loads of parties started. But, really, we were in the middle of a game. But you probably ( ... )
Reply
And then George interjected. Jim blinked curiously over at him, but as soon as he caught on, he started to smile again. "I'm sure you'll catch up soon," he said placatingly to George. "Anyway, yeah, I was about to say, we're playing this game, um..." He scratched the back of his neck and frowned. "I can explain it to you, I guess, but it's kind of tough. It would take a really long time."
Reply
"Yeah. Really, really, hard." Kelly had worked at Dunder-Mifflin long enough to know what was up. She was with it.
Reply
Reply
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