Dwight K. Schrute, (Acting) Manager

If you don't like 'em, this is called a door, you can walk right through it.

Full ride, deal with it. Seriously? Stone-cold seriously.

They are trying to figure me out, and I don't like it. Once they figure me out, they start to tell me what I want to hear.

Don't thank me. Hey, don't thank me, guy.

Here's a bowl of ice cream, you either like it or you don't. That's my attitude right now in this room, that's my attitude on 'Ice Cream Thursdays.'

But I could see how some people might think that they're bad.

That is a... An astute observation, Kevin. Kev's got me pegged.

I found your new executive assistant, my friend, Carla. She's got great experience, we even considered making her Cece's godmother, but she had this boyfriend at the time.

Oh, there is an inner circle. Oh, yeah. There is no inner circle.

I also say that because I am also in the inner circle.

Did you get that, ma? Your boy, Kevin Malone, is in the inner circle, which doesn't exist.

It's just that I own the coffee shop. So once you've seen sausage being made, all you wanna do is make sausage 'cause it's so much fun.

No matter how many times I reach out to Dwight, he doesn't seem to want anything to do with me. It reminds me of my relationship with my son. Except there, I'm the Dwight.

Or my other idea, 50,000 tiny clients.

That's Toys 'R' Us, I think. No, that's definitely a knockoff. You can feel the center of gravity is off.

So, to make things simpler for Deangelo, I just, without lying, strongly implied that I'm Kelly's supervisor.

Yeah, but you lie all the time. You lie for no reason. Ryan, you just like to lie. I'd die for you, too.

You know, I have a cousin who cracked the secret formula for a certain popular cola that I shall not name. So I've never had to buy it. True story. I just drink my cousin's.

Congratulations on your one cousin. I have 70, each one better than the last.

Yes! No! Yes! Yes! No! No! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes... Uh-oh.

This former administrative assistant misspelled 'administrative,' and 'assistant.'

Under special skills, Mr. Don Finer put juggling. What's wrong with juggling, Darryl? I'm a big juggler. I actually perform a motivational juggling routine.

What would you say this room is? 300 square feet? 320? Three-twenty, just free-balling it. It's a little cramped. How many square feet out there? Seventeen, eighteen hundo?

Sorry, I never touch another juggler's instruments.

Why don't I just do my routine without the juggling balls? Prepare to go into the danger zone.

Phyllis, where's Phyllis? Here. Do you believe in me, Phyllis? Yes. 'Cause I believe in you. Feel that connection?

He didn't drop a single ball.

What could he possibly stand to gain from a fake juggling routine? What could he possibly stand to gain from a real juggling routine?

I wrote my own companion piece to The Vagina Monologues, called The Penis Apologies. So I know a thing or two.

And if he doesn't listen, then he can kiss his penis goodbye. Snip-snip. Am I right, girls?

Oh, like, nobody, it was... Pam? Was it Pam? Oh, my gosh. That sounds like Pam. You know how she gets. Kevin, she can get really bitchy.

Raise your hand if you have a vagina. Raise your hand if someone you love has a vagina.

What about Deangelo's hand? Oh, wow. He's got 'em both up.

NBA, WNBA. One is a sport, one is a joke. I love sports, I love jokes. Room for all.

A law office? No, Anthropologie. 'We don't have this and that size.' Pretty lame.

Yeah. Yup. Wow. No corporate experience whatsoever. I didn't want anyone with any bad habits.

What's up, man cave?

Jim watching through window, clearly wanting in but unable to enter

Tell your whore to leave me alone!

So this is my life until I win the lottery or Pam finally writes that series of young adult books. So, one afternoon while walking home from school, quirky 10th-grader Becky Walters finds a wounded Pegasus in the woods. And she becomes 'The Horse Flyer.'

No, he's just a big fraud, Deangelo. He's like Rango. He doesn't work here, basically, just like the way Rango didn't save those animals. It was just a big misunderstanding.

I did not see Rango.

Total brain burp. I'm no MJ. Please. I can do his dunk from free-throw line, though.

Mad respect from a brother! The man is paying me to take Chinese. I will say what I need to say. And soon, I will say it in Chinese.

Only because no one has called NASA to request a lift off.

If I wanted to see a pissing contest, I'd lock Mose in the chicken coop.

Damn it, Dwight, enough! Get your ass downstairs, or find a new place to sell paper!

Okay, a little about me. I respond to strong leadership.

Deangelo falls and hits his head attempting the dunk, lying motionless on basketball court

Who should I say is calling? Erin.