Varun Udupa

01-02-2015 15:30
udupa.varun@gmail.com

D A Y

A T

T H E

O F F I C E

by V. Udupa
It started out like any other day for Jim Halpert, as he sat
in his tiny cubicle, stockpiling his arsenal of crumpled paper
balls. He was doing this mainly out of boredom, work held zero
interest for Jim now - although he was the best in the office at
it. He really did possess a knack for reeling in customers at
the Dunder Mifflin Paper company, and selling them, well, paper.
Jim would usually finish his work pretty soon and then get to
his daily antics. Maybe talk to the cameraman once in a while,
detailing his triumphs of the day.
Not today, though. Not today. No time for the camera today.
Today, Dwight Howard had crossed a line. He had escalated the
feud between them to a state beyond just the two of them. A
declaration of all-out war had been declared. Dwight had tried
to ask Pam, the love of his life, out on a date. She'd declined
of course, but the sheer audacity of it all made Jim despise him
even more. To top it off, he'd been a real creep about it too.
Blood had been drawn. Jim was determined to return the
favour, so much so that Dwight Howard would have no more of the
German blood he so highly regarded left. Dwight was not the
target, though.
The target was Dwight's mother.

Jim knew Paula to be a gullible old hag who had recently

goaded Dwight into getting her an email account, and so had
forwarded her the old Nigerian Prince scam. He didn't want
Dwight's money, he just wanted him to not have it. He would know
soon enough if it had worked, based on Dwight's reaction as he
came back from his scheduled post-lunch call with his beloved
mother.
The permanent markers on Jim's desk were up as pickets. Jim
rolled up the last of his Dunder Mifflin paperball ammunition
and neatly placed them into the array of ice-cream stick
catapults.
Jim was ready for war.