Moroccan Christmas

Dwight:Hiii-YAH! Kee-YAH! Whoooosh!

Dwight:You see, the key to true martial arts mastery is committing fully to each strike. Feel the power!

Dwight:Eee-YAH! Pow! Boom-chicka-boom!

Dwight:I have some exciting news. I've achieved a new belt level in karate.

Jim:Wow, that's great, Dwight. What belt?

Dwight:Purple.

Jim:Purple? I didn't know that was a belt in karate.

Dwight:Well, it's not traditional. I created it myself.

Jim:Of course you did. You know, karate is a 400-year-old martial art. I think it's probably fine the way it is.

Dwight:Alright, picture this: You're at the Steamtown trolley museum in Scranton, right? You're admiring a beautifully restored 1920s streetcar. A guy approaches you—he's part of the Northeastern Pennsylvania mafia. He's angry because you looked at his girlfriend's trolley the wrong way.

Dwight:Now he's got his crew blocking all the exits. What do you do?

Kevin:I'm not doing it. I don't want to choke.

Dwight:You're not going to choke. I've done this a thousand times.

Kevin:No, I'm not doing it.

Dwight:Actually, I did choke you. You just didn't realize it.

Jim:Why don't you just practice with yourself? You're probably your own best opponent.

Dwight:That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

Dwight:I am my own most worthy opponent. I have bested myself in every way. There is no one I respect more than me, no one I fear more than me, no one I would rather compete against than me.

Jim:What about measles?

Dwight:Measles is a worthy adversary.

Dwight:I'll show you how it's done.

Dwight:Hiii-yah!

Dwight:You think you're better than me?

Dwight:I am the best!

Dwight:No, I am!

Dwight:Hiii-yah! Hiii-yah!

Jim:Oh no, he's got him in a headlock.

Pam:Wait, I think the other Dwight is getting out of it.

Jim:No, no, no — look at his grip. First Dwight's got this.

Pam:I'm telling you, the second Dwight is more flexible.

Jim:You don't know Dwight like I do. He's going to come back from this.

Pam:Oh my God, he just kneed himself in the stomach!

Jim:That's a rookie move. I can't believe he fell for that.

Jim:Yeah, I'd say they're pretty evenly matched. I mean, Dwight's got the experience, but Dwight's also got the experience, so... it really could go either way.

Michael:You know, Erin, I'm actually quite the stand-up comedian. I've killed on stage. Absolutely killed.

Erin:Oh, that's... nice, Michael.

Michael:Nice? NICE? This is more than nice. I'm talking packed clubs, people on their feet, tears streaming down their faces.

Erin:Mmm-hmm.

Michael:I'm thinking about going pro. That's how good I am. You should come to one of my shows.

Erin:Maybe... maybe someday.

Dwight:Did you get that corporate email?

Michael:Yeah, I get like eight emails a day. That's insane.

Michael:Do we have 'the Journal'?

Erin:Oh, your feelings journal? I didn't know you kept one!

Michael:Guys, guys, I found the article about Dunder Mifflin in the Wall Street Journal.

Pam:What does it say?

Michael:I... I don't know. It's behind a paywall.

Jim:So we can't read about whether our company is going bankrupt because we have to pay money?

Michael:That's the cruel irony, yes.

Michael:Wait, how much does the article cost?

Jim:Like fifty bucks.

Michael:Fifty dollars?! Jim, you already paid for it?

Jim:Yeah, I did it this morning.

Michael:You paid fifty dollars without asking me first?

Jim:I thought it was important.

Michael:Well, you're not wrong. I mean, fifty dollars is basically nothing.

Dwight:I have a solution. My beet farm is hiring. I can offer each of you positions at competitive wages.

Dwight:However, there is one clause in the contract: you cannot unionize. You also cannot speak to each other about wages or working conditions.

Dwight:You will work six days a week, sunrise to sunset, and you will report directly to me. As Assistant Regional Manager of Schrute Farms, I am uniquely qualified to lead you.

Michael:Well, tell him I called. And if he calls back, tell him I'm in a meeting.

Michael:Actually, tell him I'm dead. That way he'll know not to call back.

Michael:No wait, that's stupid.

Michael:That's what she said!

Jim:Michael? You okay in there?

Michael:Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about things.

Jim:It smells like something died in there.

Michael:That's just the smell of a man confronting his own mortality, Jim. We all have our own unique scent. It's part of the human condition.

Jim:...Did you eat the gas station sushi?

Michael:A true leader doesn't make excuses. A true leader owns his... his odors.

Andy:I'm going to ask Erin out. I'm like the Nard Dog - I've got charm, I've got moves, I've got... paws instead of hands.

Andy:Wait, that doesn't work. I meant I've got... game. The Nard Dog has game.

Michael:We need Mullins. We need Mullins now. Someone call Mullins!

Michael:A leader is like a big ship captain. You gotta keep your crew happy, so they don't jump off the ship. That's why I always say: 'A happy crew is a crew that won't leave, and a crew that won't leave is a crew that believes.'

Michael:Leave... believes. That rhymes!

Stanley:When there's a crisis, that's when I work the hardest. When things are normal, that's when I slack off.

Michael:I have an announcement to make. There's been a murder.

Michael:In Clue. Mrs. White is dead.

Michael:Games are a great way to relieve stress. You know, when I was a kid, my parents were always fighting. I would play Operation to escape from all the yelling and the screaming. So games are very therapeutic.

Michael:Now I need an actual operation to remove the sadness from my heart.

Jim:Fine, I'll play your murder mystery game. But if Michael tries to turn this into another one of his 'Threat Level Midnight' situations, I'm stopping it before anyone gets hurt.

Jim:Michael owes me money from that ridiculous scheme he came up with last month.

Jim:I'm not even going to explain it because you wouldn't believe how dumb it was.

Michael:Come on Stanley, we're playing a murder mystery game!

Stanley:No.

Michael:There will be sandwich platters.

Stanley:I'm in.

Michael:You know what? Kevin, you should create a character backstory. Like, you could say you're a former astronaut who lost his memory.

Kevin:An astronaut? Really?

Michael:Yeah, or a guy who got kicked out of the military for being too heavy.

Kevin:I like that one.

Andy:Okay, so I'm going to ask Erin out through the game.

Andy:We'll be these two characters and I'll just... naturally bring it up.

Game Master:You two are brother and sister.

Andy:Oh no.

Erin:Yay! We're siblings!

Stanley:I'm not doing that.

Michael:Oh, the burden of being this attractive. Do you know how hard it is to walk around here looking like this? Everyone wants a piece of Michael Scott.

Michael:It's exhausting being desired by everyone in the office. I can't even get a moment's peace.

Michael:I do declare!

Jim:Michael, where did you even learn that accent?

Michael:Delta Burke. Designing Women. That's my only reference point.

Pam:Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Jim:Okay, so that accent... it's like you're gargling maple syrup while simultaneously trying to whisper a secret to a horse. There's a wistfulness to it, a sort of tragic beauty, like a magnolia wilting in the Georgia heat.

Michael:Do the Swedish Chef impression.

Jim:I don't really do impressions.

Michael:Come on, just try.

Jim:Okay... Bork bork bork!

Michael:That's it! That's perfect!

Jim:Wait, is the Swedish Chef actually Swedish?

Toby:What's going on?

Michael:You killed someone! In the game. You're the murderer.

Andy:So, Erin, I was wondering if you might be amenable to accompanying me to dinner this weekend.

Erin:Oh my gosh, yes! Absolutely!

Andy:Really? That's... that's wonderful. I mean, I was prepared for rejection, but this is... *clears throat* ...this is quite pleasant.

Stanley:I'm not into voodoo. I just got really into Harry Potter in my fifties and it went to a dark place.

Dwight:Okay, let me think about this logically. We have three suspects: Jim, Pam, and Ryan. Jim is 6'3", which makes him a tall suspect. Pam is 5'4", which makes her a short suspect. Ryan is 5'11", which puts him right in the middle. Therefore, Ryan is a medium suspect.

Andy:So your character is really into me?

Erin:Totally. I mean, my character is anyway.

Kevin:Yeah, and my character is into both of you. Like, really into you guys.

Andy:Kevin, that's not... that's not how this works.

Kevin:Why not? My character has needs too, man.

Andy:Wait, so you're telling me Erin's character sleeps with like half the precinct?

Andy:And she's also a murder suspect? I mean, I'm into her, but I'm not trying to date someone who's actually capable of that.

Andy:That's a real concern, right? That's not just me being weird?

Kevin:So basically, we're all slaves now? I mean, we were already slaves, but now we're like... plantation slaves.

Michael:Okay, okay, I can't take this anymore. Who's the killer?

Phyllis:Michael, we're only on page three. You have to wait until—

Michael:It's the butler, isn't it? I bet it's the butler.

Phyllis:No! Why would you say that? You just ruined the whole thing!

Michael:What? I was just guessing.

Phyllis:Well, now I don't even want to read it anymore.

Jim:Michael, we need to focus on the crisis right now.

Michael:Jim, I'm in character. I'm a serious businessman right now.

Jim:You're not in character. You're just... being yourself.

Michael:Exactly. And I'm staying this way until this crisis is over.

Michael:Spoiler alert: Snape kills Dumbledore.

Erin:Oh my God! I haven't seen Harry Potter yet!

Erin:So wait, was that date real or were you just playing the game?

Andy:It was real. I mean, I wanted it to be real.

Erin:Okay good, because I actually really liked it. I wasn't just doing it for the game.

Andy:Yeah, me neither. Totally genuine.

Erin:Great!

Andy:Great!

Erin:I thought we were going on a date. Like, a romantic date. But then I realized he meant like, the actual date. Like, today's date. And I was just... I was really disappointed. I had picked out an outfit and everything.

Michael:You want the truth? You can't handle the truth! I am the killer. No wait, I'm the detective. Actually, I'm the judge now. All rise!

Michael:Objection! I'm objecting to my own statement. Sustained. Overruled. Overruled the ruling!

Jim:I mean, either way it's bad. If he's snapped, that's bad. If he's stuck in character, that means he thought this was a good idea, which is also bad.

Michael:I'm practicing being dead so when the real thing happens, I'll be ready.

Michael:Shh!

Jim:Michael, you need to handle this crisis. You're the regional manager.

Michael:I know, I know. But right now I'm in the middle of something really important.

Jim:What could possibly be more important than a company crisis?

Michael:I'm playing Solitaire. And you know what? I'm actually winning at something in my life.

David Wallace:Michael, it's David. We have a serious situation at corporate. I need you to listen carefully.

Michael:I'm sorry, I can't talk right now. I'm in the middle of a meeting with... uh... the King of Siam.

David Wallace:Michael, this is important. The company is in crisis.

Michael:Your Majesty, can you excuse me for just one second? I'm sorry, David, the King and I are in very delicate negotiations. This cannot wait.

Jim:Michael's always been like this. He needs to feel like he's in control, even when everything's falling apart. Especially then, actually. It's like... his thing. His way of coping.

Jim:So yeah, I could shut it down. Tell him to stop with the games and the bit. But then he'd just be stressed and spiraling instead of stressed and... doing something with it, you know? At least this way, he's feeling something other than panic.

Stanley:Playing a murder mystery game all day was hard work.

Jim:Okay, so you're a double agent working for the killer.

Pam:No, I'm a double agent working for the detective.

Dwight:Well, I'm a double agent for both sides.

Kevin:I'm a triple agent.

Jim:That's not even a thing in this game.

Kevin:Exactly. Nobody knows what's happening anymore.

Phyllis:I'm leaving. Bob, you take out the trash. And make sure you lock the door on your way out.