"First and foremost," Michael said, "we want you to acknowledge that we were obviously the superior team."
Michael sat at one end of the Conference Room table, on which rested three candles to light the room. Michael's Team stood behind him. Oscar sat at the other end of the table, with his team behind him. "I suppose we can agree to that," he said.
"Dwight, being the idiot that he is, threatened to remove all of his food from our group if I didn't agree to peace negotiations. He wants a treaty. Which is stupid. What war ever ended with a treaty?"
"We want our hostages returned," Michael continued.
"We want the refrigerator to be returned."
"We want your team to disband."
"I can agree to that if you can agree to our terms."
"What are your terms?"
"We want an equal share of the food. We want access to the blankets. We want your team to be disbanded."
"Disbanded?" Michael repeated, crossly. "Now let's not forget who the winner is here."
"Why does it matter?" Oscar replied. "The whole point of teams was to exclude people from getting food. If we're all going to be sharing anyway, then it goes without saying that the teams would be dissolved."
"Then why did you even make that one of your terms."
"To be sure that you don't go back on your deal."
Michael scoffed. "That's not something I would–"
"Yes, Michael, it is."
Everyone in the room contradicted Michael at once.
"All right, all right!" Michael waved his hands in the air. "My team disbands. But only if your team promises to all chip in to get a victory plaque for the Michael Team."
"Seriously, Michael, that's a little ridiculous."
"We'll make you victory brownies, but no plaque," Phyllis said.
"Fine, then make it a victory pie," Michael demanded.
"Victory cake," Phyllis said.
"Mmmm..." Michael hummed indecisively.
"With 'Congratulations Michael's Team for Winning Based on Your Superior Intelligences' written with frosting," Oscar added.
"You've got yourself a deal," Michael said, slamming his palms on the table and rising to his feet. Oscar rose at the same time and they met halfway down the table and shook hands. "It was a pleasure to dominate you."
The camera zoomed in on Dwight, who mouthed, 'Level Six.'
Oscar gave Michael a slow, shallow nod.
"I'm glad that's over."
Everyone in the office (except for Pam) stood around the food pile on Michael's floor.
"This is all you guys have?" Kevin asked.
"What did you expect?" Dwight spat. "If we would have had a plentiful supply we wouldn't have had to defend it."
"There's no way we're all going to be able to get enough to eat," Phyllis said.
"We'll do our best," Jim said. "At least now we can all eat something."
"It's no less than we should have expected," Oscar commented.
"Hey, guys!" a deep voice called from the hallway outside the office. Everyone turned to the window and saw Roy and Pam walking into the office together. "I found a bunch of pizzas in the warehouse." Roy stood in the doorway holding five boxes of cold pizza. Pam stood just behind, beaming. "We're all going to have plenty to eat."
Everyone in Michael's office smiled.
Both groups, along with Pam and Roy, ate together in the Conference Room.
"You've got to show me how you throw snowballs that fast," Jim said, taking a seat against the wall next to Creed.
Creed turned and smiled. "It's all in the wrist, my young friend."
"Is it?" Jim asked. A burst of laughter turned Jim's attention to the corner of the room. Pam stood next to Roy, leaning forward a bit with her hand covering her mouth. Roy laughed with her, though much more lightly than she. Jim turned away, his eyes suddenly vacant.
"Who's there?" Dwight demanded. He stood toward the back of the room, glaring at the door. A hush took over the room as everyone turned to see the visitor.
A man with a a scraggly orange beard and a pink, bald head stepped through the doorway. "I'm Joseph Horner, we heard that there might be people trapped in here."
"Awesome!" Dwight exclaimed, running toward the man and grabbing his hand. "Is that a SWAT jacket?" His eyes drank in the gray coat, lined with colorful badges.
The man gave Dwight a yellow-toothed smile. "Yes, the blizzard's been so bad they've been calling in anyone who can help. We had a helicopter, so they told us to see what we could do."
"Wait, so we're all going to get to ride in a helicopter?" Kelly asked.
"That's correct. It's on the roof right now."
Kelly let out a squeal of excitement and grabbed Ryan's arm. "This is so fabulous. I've always wanted to ride in a helicopter." Ryan rolled his eyes.
"We'll have to make two trips," Joseph said. "Who wants to go first?"
"So, in the end, things worked out pretty okay. Maybe Murphy's Razor isn't always right. I don't know. Who am I to disagree with science?"
"After today, I really only have one question: what is the limit of things Dwight will do because an email forward told him to? I think I will partake in a quest to find out."
"I am not coming in to work tomorrow."
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