This is actually the second Office fic I ever wrote. At the time I wasn't sure if it was good enough to post, but since I've posted worse since, I figured maybe it was time to re-evaluate this one.
Jim: Well, when Michael was given command of his own platoon, he was very big on his men being a "band of brothers," so he begged and pleaded with General Packer... I actually think he might have had to trade away some of his best pin-up girls... Anyway, Michael was given special permission to draft each and everyone of us.
Jim shakes his head.
Jim: I wish I knew how Roy got 4F.
Michael proudly inspects his troops, occasionally squeezing one of them in the cheek or poking them in the gut, which he of course finds incredibly hilarious. Dwight sidles up to him. "Michael."
"Gah!" Michael shrieked. "Dwight! Don't sneak up on me like that! This is war!"
"I just wanted to tell you that I would be willing to dive on a live grenade for you," Dwight told him reverently.
"Well, thank you, but I don't think I'll need that right now," Michael informed him exasperated.
"Well," Dwight replied, slight downcast, "whenever you're ready."
Dwight: To serve under Michael Scott is the culmination of everything I've been working for my whole life. It has always been my dream to kill in his name and now I am. Smiles. For Michael and Uncle Sam!
Dwight, conspiratorially: Although really, I don't see why we don't side with the Germans, but...
Deep within the trenches Jim, Ryan, and Toby are firing away at the big guns, desperately trying to hold their position against the encroaching German blitz... Michael, however has his back to the battle and is casually speaking directly to the camera.
"War is great! It's exciting, it's fun... we're just men being men together." Michael places a hand on Ryan's shoulder, causing Ryan to flinch and fire in the wrong direction. "I hope this war last forever, I really do. My only concern is the old paper factory back home." Michael leans into the camera and whispers "see, all of us had to come here to fight which means the women were left in charge and we all know how that goes."
The Dunder Paper Factory in Scranton has never seemed busier or more productive. Each one of the ladies is clearly working as hard as she can, especially Phyllis.
Jan, as happy as we've ever seen her: Sales are the highest they've ever been, profits are through the roof, and the need for paper has never been higher. Really, this company hasn't been on this solid footing since Michael took over the branch in 1929.
Jan pauses and her face turns a shade of green.
Jan: Of course, we're all praying for our men to come home safe and sound.
Jim, holding up a piece of paper: One of my buddies in the mail office grabbed this for me. This is Dwight's letter to his best girl back home. "Darling One, the brutality of the war is unbelievable yet I find myself somehow disappointed. Perhaps this is what comes of having your dearest dreams fulfilled. Know you that while the whores of Amsterdam have opened their arms to me, I have remained faithful to you in all ways. Truly, war has made me a man." Jim looks up at the camera "P.s. Please send me my copy of "Nome King of Oz. Yours, ex- P.F.C. Dwight K Schrute, Assistant to the Executive Officer."
Jim: It's times like this you really miss the girl you left back home.
Michael has the entire crew gathered around the table, pouring over some sort of intricate plan. "Alright, this is the most important mission we've ever had," Michael tells them seriously, "I need each and every one of you and I need you to be at your best." Michael pauses to look each of the men in the eye. "General Packer is coming tomorrow and we need to have a killer joke to really knock him off his feet."
The awkward silence is broken by a legion of German troops pouring in from every entrance. Since none of the men are within reach of their weapon (Michael thought they were getting in the way of the party atmosphere), they have no choice but to surrender.
Jim, a bit optimistic: Well, now we're going to a prison camp... everybody except Dwight who agreed to collaborate.
Jim gives us a wide smile.
Jim:If that in itself doesn't win us the War, I don't know what will.