So, no we come to the sad and weepy part of the story.
Yeah. There was originally going to one more chapter after this one, but I then I tweaked a line and ended up with what I thought was a suitable ending, so... unless I get a lot of demands to the contrary, this will be the final chapter. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, it's been a trip.
John Kransinski IS Jim Halpert AS David Bowie IN "Dunder-Mifflin: Under Pressure"
Plug Eight: The Idiot
Dwight was still on stage, seeming ignorant to the disinterest of the crowd, the other bands queuing up behind him, or even the fact that Kevin's band is packing up and leaving.
"Now, I'd like to play something by the Bloodhound Gang... Michael, I know you can hear this somehow."
Pam, trying desperately to seem positive: Jim went after Karen.
She nods nervously, smiling a few yards to wide to completely believable.
Pam: I stayed here.
She smiles even broader.
Pam: I don't know what he's saying to her right now, but... I'm okay with that.
Pam: Because... it really doesn't have anything to do with me.
When Jim finally caught up with Karen, she was midway across one of the eighteen million bridges that stretched across the cold Pittsburgh nightscape.
She turned to face him only reluctantly, and he thought her face looked not so much like she was trying to keep herself from crying in front of him as much she was trying to absorb all the moisture from all around them in through her eyes and nose.
He realized that for as upset as he'd seen her, he'd never once seen her cry. Whenever she had been especially hurt or offended, (always by him, always because of something he'd failed to do) she'd leave the room and he'd stay. He'd seen Pam cry... really, Pam had seen him cry, too.
He couldn't believe he never noticed it before.
Michael: I knew I would not be able to make it to Pittsburgh, so I sent the next best thing.
Pam and Ryan sat at the bar despondently, both trying to prop their heads up with their fists, despite neither of them having anything to drink that night. Pam wished she knew what Jim was saying to Karen right now, wished she could have gone with him, but she knew this wasn't her time or place and her being there could only make things worse for all concerned. She also wished that Todd Packer wasn't sitting between her and Ryan, telling horribly racist joke after horribly racist joke.
"... and the Mexican says 'he said he'd shoot me with I didn't do his woman!" No one laughed, so Packer turned his attention towards Pam. "You got a something right in there," he said, gesturing between her breasts.
"No, I don't," Pam replied drily, not even looking down.
"Well... give me a few more drinks!" He shouted and turned to Ryan for support, but the former temp shook his head in disgust. "I'll tell ya," Packer continued, scanning the crowd, "Pennsylvania has got to be my favorite state in the union."
"It's not a state, it's a commonwealth," Ryan corrected drily.
Packer shook his head. "All I know is the age of consent is only sixteen!"
Ryan: Right now, Jim is having probably the most the awkward conversation of his life...
Ryan looks back at Packer, who is still harassing Pam, then looks back to the camera with bitter envy.
Jim struggled with seventeen hundred different questions, but somehow ended up on a "What?" that was barely a breath.
Karen faired slightly better, managing to utter "You never wrote a song about me."
Jim blinked and took a step back, he seemed somehow drunk though he had abstained tonight. His mind was suddenly unable to process verbal communication, but she could read his pauses.
"You never wrote a song for me," she repeated bitterly, "but you can't tell me you never wrote a song called 'I Love You Pam' or 'My Pam' or..." she was shaking and struggling, trying not to let him see her break.
"I didn't," Jim told her.
Karen glared at him.
"It was called 'Feels Like Midnight,'" he admitted. "...had kind of an early Shins sound."
"Wonderful," Karen commented.
There came a silence that looked at all the many silences that had peppered his life, both recent and ancient, declared it could take them all at once and still emerge victor, yet found no one willing to raise to the challenge. Jim found himself struggling with his words on a level that was new even for him. He knew there had to be a camera hidden somewhere. He wondered what it saw.
"Karen, I..." Jim began, only to be dragged down by the weight of his only thoughts and words.
She shook her head distainfully. "Just say it, Jim."
He nodded and took a deep breath of the cold Allegheny air. The microphones couldn't quite pick it up what he said, but Karen's eyes went wide..
Dwight is he is being carried off stage by security
Dwight: Ever feel like you've been cheated?