Chapitre 8: S3 E2.2: The Convention
Michael and Josh met up as they left the hotel lobby.
"Michael, good to see you," Josh said with a friendly smile, extending his hand.
Michael shook Josh's hand enthusiastically. "Josh! What's the good word?"
Josh gave a slight nod, his expression turning a bit more serious. "Well, Michael, if Stamford ends up absorbing Scranton, I want you to know there will be a place for you in our branch. I could use someone with your sales experience on the team."
Michael's face faltered for a moment, a mix of emotions crossing his features. "Oh… as a salesman?"
Josh nodded, his tone professional but sincere. "Yeah, you'd be great in that role."
Michael forced a smile, though his eyes betrayed the concern creeping into his mind.
As they entered the building, they met Jan, and Michael quickly tried to change the subject. "So, Jan," Michael began, trying to sound casual, "about the 800-pound gorilla in the room..."
Jan raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, Michael?"
"Carol," Michael replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I just want to make sure there are no... you know, issues between us during the convention. Gotta keep it professional."
Jan stared at him, clearly exasperated. "Michael, move away from me."
Michael, not missing a beat, gave her a grateful nod. "Thanks for your cooperation, Jan."
As they entered the elevator, Seras looked over at Michael with an amused expression. "So, Jan, huh? You've got your hands full, don't you?"
Michael chuckled nervously. "You could say that."
When they reached the top floor, Seras casually mentioned, "Oh, by the way, I've got the presidential suite. The hotel management insisted after they realized who I was. Guess they didn't want to take any chances."
Michael's eyes widened. "Presidential suite? That's amazing! We should have the party there!"
Seras smirked. "We could, but I think you and Dwight would prefer your own space. I'll just drop by."
The three made their way to Michael's suite, where Dwight was already busy preparing for what he clearly envisioned as the ultimate party. He was in the middle of putting up a dartboard, though it was noticeably crooked.
"Michael, Seras, welcome!" Dwight announced proudly as they entered. "I've got everything set up. We're going to make this the best convention party ever."
Michael nodded approvingly, his excitement building. "Dwight, you are the man!"
Dwight then turned to Seras with a competitive glint in his eye. "Seras, care for a game of darts? Let's see what you've got."
Seras chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "Dwight, I don't think that's a great idea for you, but if you insist…"
Dwight, ever confident, pulled out a crisp $100 bill. "I'm putting my money where my mouth is. Let's see who's the real sharpshooter."
Seras raised an eyebrow, amused by Dwight's determination. "Alright, Dwight. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Dwight threw his darts with precision, landing a bullseye, a double 7, and a 5. He looked at Seras with a smug grin. "Beat that."
Seras calmly stepped up to the line, and with three quick throws, she landed three triple 20s in a row, each dart hitting the mark with perfect accuracy. Dwight's mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"Well," Seras said with a smirk, "I guess I win."
Dwight, halfway through muttering "double or nothing," was interrupted by the door opening. Jim and Josh entered the room, Jim taking in the scene with a bemused smile.
"Looks like you guys are well-stocked for a party," Jim remarked, nodding toward the array of liquor bottles lined up on the counter. He then noticed the dartboard and the awkward silence that had fallen over Dwight. "What's up with the darts?"
Seras moved to a chair in the corner, sitting down with an air of casual confidence as she watched the interactions unfold.
Dwight, recovering quickly, puffed out his chest. "Nothing much, just a friendly game. No big deal."
Michael, sensing the need to lighten the mood, broke into song. "There ain't no party like a Scranton party because a Scranton party don't stop!"
Dwight immediately joined in, the two of them launching into an impromptu beatboxing session. Josh and Jim exchanged confused looks, not entirely sure how to respond to the spectacle.
Josh, trying to regain his composure, glanced at his watch. "Well, as much fun as this is, I should probably head down to the lobby. Jan's expecting me."
Michael, ever the host, tried to keep them from leaving. "Come on, guys, stay for one more drink. How about a shot for the road?"
Josh looked at Jim with a grin. "A shot of Midori, perhaps?"
They both laughed, leaving Michael to awkwardly laugh along, clearly not in on the joke.
Jim, noticing Michael's confusion, leaned in. "It's an inside joke about a bartender back in Stamford. Don't worry about it."
Michael's face brightened slightly. "Oh, I love inside jokes. I hope to be a part of one someday."
Josh then glanced at his watch again. "Alright, time to get going."
Dwight, still in party mode, chimed in, "Wait, we should do a shot first!"
Michael wrinkled his nose in mock disgust. "Ew, Dwight, gross. It's not even noon."
Dwight, not deterred, looked over at Seras, as if seeking her approval. "Seras, what do you think?"
Seras gave him a confused stare before smirking and asking, "You really want to get the walking nuclear bomb who's under 21 drunk?"
Dwight turned around, his bravado quickly fading. "Uh, no… good point."
Seras chuckled. "Good choice, Dwight."
With that, the group headed out of the room, Seras following behind with a playful grin as they made their way down to the convention.
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As Michael, Dwight, and Seras made their way through the bustling convention floor, Michael's eyes lit up as he spotted the various booths giving away free promotional items. He turned to Seras, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Seras, have you heard about swag? It's Stuff We All Get! And it's incredible. We're basically going to decorate the condo for free!"
Seras raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but not entirely convinced. "So, you're excited about… free stuff?"
Michael nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Pens, stress balls, keychains… all this amazing stuff just for showing up! It's like Christmas, but without having to deal with family."
Seras couldn't help but chuckle at Michael's excitement. "Alright, I'll take your word for it. But I don't really see the point in all this garbage."
Michael waved off her skepticism. "Oh, come on, Seras. You've got to try it! It's the best part of the convention!"
With a smirk, Seras approached the Office Depot table and grabbed a small squishy ball, holding it up for Michael to see. "This? This is what's got you so excited?"
Michael beamed. "That's the spirit! Just think of all the stress you can relieve with that thing!"
Seras rolled her eyes playfully but pocketed the squishy ball nonetheless. "Sure, Michael. I'll hang on to it."
As Michael and Dwight continued to explore the convention floor, Seras decided to head out on her own to see if there was anything truly interesting happening at the event. She waved them off, casually mentioning that she'd catch up with them later.
Meanwhile, Michael and Dwight made a beeline for the booth where former NFL player Jerome Bettis was signing autographs. As they approached, Michael's excitement reached a fever pitch. "Dwight, this is it! We're about to meet Mr. T!"
Dwight nodded eagerly, clearly just as mistaken as Michael. "I can't believe it! The A-Team was such a big part of my childhood!"
They finally reached the table where Bettis was sitting, calmly signing memorabilia for fans. Michael, with his usual lack of subtlety, leaned in and greeted Bettis with an enthusiastic, "Mr. T! It's an honor!"
Bettis looked up, slightly confused but polite. "Uh, actually, it's Jerome Bettis."
Michael blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Right, right! Jerome… T! Listen, we're throwing a party in Room 308 tonight. You should totally come!"
Bettis, clearly not interested but too polite to outright decline, gave a noncommittal smile. "I'll see if I can make it."
Michael, undeterred by the lack of enthusiasm, turned to Dwight. "You know, Dwight, they call him 'The Bus' because he's afraid of flying."
Dwight nodded solemnly, clearly impressed. "That's smart. Never trust machines in the sky."
As they moved on, Michael spotted a guy dressed in a giant Blackberry costume, promoting the latest model. Michael's eyes lit up again, and he immediately made a beeline for the poor guy.
"Hey, Blackberry!" Michael called out, waving him over. "Remember me from last year? We're having a party in Room 308 tonight."
The guy in the Blackberry costume didn't respond but continued giving a thumbs-up, forced to by the costume he was wearing.
Michael gave him a thumbs-up. "Great! See you there!"
As they continued wandering through the convention, they eventually ran into Jim and Josh again. The two were chatting casually when Josh's phone buzzed with an email notification. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
"Looks like Jan wants us to meet up front," Josh said, showing the email to Jim.
Michael, not wanting to be left out, quickly pulled out his own phone and pretended to scroll through it. "Oh yeah, I got that email too!" he said, trying to sound casual.
Dwight, who was standing beside him, frowned. "You don't get email on your phone."
"I just know, Dwight. Jan says to meet her at the front."
Without missing a beat, Michael pretended to receive a phone call. "Oh, uh, yeah. Hold on, Dwight. I've got to take this."
He put the phone to his ear and faked a conversation, motioning for Dwight to follow him away from Jim and Josh. Once they were out of earshot, Michael turned to Dwight with a conspiratorial look.
"Dwight," Michael began in a low voice, "I need you to dig up some dirt on Josh. Find out if he's got any skeletons in his attic."
Dwight, always ready for a mission, nodded seriously. "I'll talk to my buddy down at the station. Stat."
The duo left to head toward lunch, with Seras appearing behind them.
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The lunch hour at the convention was a welcome break from the whirlwind of activities and Michael's relentless energy. Michael, Jim, and Dwight found a small table in the corner of the hotel's restaurant, and as they sat down, Michael immediately launched into a detailed update about everything happening back at the Scranton branch.
"So, Jim, you'll never guess who took over your desk!" Michael began, a grin plastered across his face. "Ryan! He's like a mini-you but less charming and way more into spreadsheets. I mean, he's good, but let's be honest—he's no Jim."
Jim nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I figured they'd give it to him. Hope he's doing well. Send him my regards, would you?"
Michael puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying his role as the bearer of news. "Oh, absolutely! I'll give him a call this afternoon, tell him Jim Halpert sends his best. He'll be thrilled, I'm sure."
Jim's expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed to consider something before speaking again. "How's, uh…" He hesitated, clearly weighing his options, before finally settling on a name. "…Toby doing?"
Michael's face twisted into a look of pure disdain at the mention of Toby. "Toby? Really, Jim? Was he the reason you left? Because, honestly, I wouldn't blame you."
Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "No, Michael, Toby wasn't the reason. It's not like that."
Michael leaned in, his expression turning serious, almost conspiratorial. "But what about the bosses, Jim? You ever compare them? I mean, let's be real—what do you think of Josh compared to me?"
Jim, ever the diplomat, smiled and shook his head. "Michael, it's not a competition. Really."
Michael looked slightly deflated but quickly rebounded as his phone rang. He answered with his usual enthusiasm. "Hey, Pam! How's it going?"
Jim watched curiously as Michael's tone shifted from his usual over-the-top cheerfulness to something more genuine. "Oh, good luck on your date tonight! You're gonna knock 'em dead. Just remember—don't wear the wedding dress."
Jim raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. As Michael hung up, Jim couldn't resist asking, "Pam's going on a date?"
Michael nodded, seemingly proud of his knowledge. "Yep! Double date with Kelly, Ryan, and some cartoonist named Alan. Pam was nervous, but I told her she'd do great. I mean, what could go wrong, right?"
Jim smiled, though a hint of something else flickered in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure she'll be fine."
Turning his attention back to Dwight, Michael leaned forward, dropping his voice to a low whisper. "So, Dwight, how's the investigation going? Any dirt on Josh?"
Dwight shook his head, looking slightly disappointed. "My contact at the sheriff's office isn't volunteering today. I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow."
Michael frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the lack of progress. "That's not good enough, Dwight. We need something now. We can't let Josh get the upper hand."
Just then, Michael's eyes lit up as he turned to Seras, who had been quietly observing the conversation. "Seras! You've got all those government contacts, right? Can you find out something about Josh? Maybe dig up a few skeletons?"
Seras looked at Michael with a smirk. "Sure, Michael. Let me make a call."
She pulled out her phone and fake dialed a number, her face turning serious as she pretended to listen intently to the other end. "Can you run a background check for me on a Josh Porter? Uh-huh… murder, you say? Theft, too? And clubbing baby seals? Wow, that's… intense." She glanced at Michael, who was watching with wide-eyed anticipation.
Seras covered her phone for a second, leaning towards Michael. "Did you say Josh Porter or Portar?"
Michael responded with, "Porter."
Seras continued over the phone. "Oh, Porter. I thought you said Portar. Hmm… well, this Josh Porter seems clean, but this Josh Portar might be a pseudonym. I'd keep an eye out."
Michael looked thoroughly impressed, while Dwight nodded as if everything made perfect sense. "Good work, Seras. We'll keep that in mind."
Meanwhile, Jim, who had been trying to keep a straight face throughout the entire exchange, finally couldn't help himself. He glanced over at the camera with the usual Jim look.
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As the group sat around the table, enjoying their meal, the atmosphere was a mix of business and the usual oddities that seemed to follow Michael wherever he went. Jan and Josh approached the table, plates in hand, and took their seats next to Jim and Michael.
Josh, ever the efficient manager, wasted no time diving into the topic at hand. "Jan, I wanted to let you know that Jim here secured a new lead with a rep from National Envelope. We're planning to grab lunch with him later today."
Before Josh could continue, Michael, who had been waiting for an opportunity to interject, suddenly leaned forward, pulling out the crisp $100 bill he had received as per diem expenses. "Hey, Jan! Guess what? I've got the tip covered!" He handed the bill to the nearby waiter, who looked both surprised and confused by the overly generous gesture.
Jan, maintaining her professional demeanor, turned to Michael with a slightly raised eyebrow. "That's… generous, Michael. But what have you generated in terms of actual business leads?"
Michael, always quick to shift focus when needed, flashed a confident grin. "Oh, I've generated a lot of interest. Specifically, in my party this evening! It's going to be epic. Room 308. You're obviously invited, Jan."
Jan's expression immediately shifted to one of concern. "Michael, what party? I didn't authorize any event."
Michael waved off her concerns with a casual gesture. "It's just a little get-together, Jan. You know, some drinks, some darts, maybe a little karaoke. It's all in good fun."
Jan sighed, her frustration evident. "Michael, I'm in meetings all day, and I don't have time to keep an eye on you. I can't be on top of you 24/7."
Michael smirked, glancing at the camera with that familiar look that always preceded one of his infamous "that's what she said" jokes. However, for once, he managed to hold back the comment. Instead, he stood up abruptly, deciding it was time to check on something more pressing. "Excuse me, I need to check on something," he said, heading towards the front desk.
As Michael left the table, Jan turned her attention to Seras, who had been quietly observing the entire interaction with a bemused expression. "Seras," Jan began, her tone both curious and slightly exasperated, "why are you here? Shouldn't you be at the office?"
Seras leaned back in her chair, a smirk playing on her lips. "I finished all my work for the next seven days. I was bored, so I decided to tag along. Don't worry, I'm not here on the company's dime."
Jan considered this for a moment, clearly weighing the pros and cons. Finally, she nodded. "Alright, but if you're going to be here, I need you to keep an eye on Michael. Make sure he doesn't do anything… too crazy."
Seras's smirk widened. "I'll watch him like a hawk, Jan."
Jan, unsure as to if she should be reassured by this, gave Seras a small nod of thanks before returning to her meal.
Meanwhile, Michael had made his way to the hotel's front desk, his usual enthusiasm on full display. "Hi there," he greeted the receptionist with a wide grin. "Any messages for Room 308?"
The receptionist checked the system and shook her head. "No messages, Mr. Scott."
Michael looked slightly disappointed but shrugged it off. "Alright, thanks anyway." As he turned to leave, he narrowly missed a disguised Angela—wearing a large hat and oversized sunglasses—approaching the desk. She whispered something to the receptionist and received a key card in return, under the pseudonym "Jane Doe." She quickly pocketed the key and slipped away, unnoticed by Michael.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone