At Nellie's suggestion, Dwight tries to read her thoughts by pressing his giant forehead to hers, but he's only picking up a seven and two ones. So Nellie spells it out for him: meet her in his room in seven minutes for some one-on-one time. He hands over his card key, and she takes it, but not without planting a kiss on his mouth. As she steps away, Dwight calls her back, supposedly so he can write his room number on the card. He THs, "Win at all costs, don't respect women. These are the tenets I was brought up with and they have served me well. But my ancestors never worked in corporate America." Dwight's speech goes on to explain that one of his ancestors is his own time-traveling self, so it goes a little off-track.
The Scranton gang is finally done working. As they break up for the night, Val holds Darryl back to apologize, and asks if they can never talk about it again. Darryl agrees, but points out, "Me and you? I don't think that's ridiculous. Dot dot dot...dot dot." Well, now it's out there. And Val looks a bit stunned.
Jim comes out of his bathroom to find his robe on the floor and Kathy in his bed, in her underwear. Even Jim can't pretend this is innocent any more. "All right, now I think it's time for you to go," he finally says. Kathy tries to blow it off, but he sharply insists, "Kathy! Go." But she still doesn't move until Dwight bursts in with a dust mask on and two spray bottles from a housekeeping cart, demanding, "Where's the bug?" Jim: "Awesome." Dwight goes to work, spraying the bed and the sheet Kathy's wrapped in, chasing her clear out of the room, possibly even for good. Choking on the fumes, Jim congratulates Dwight on his success in fumigating the place. Dwight warns Jim not to stay there. "This place is a biohazard. If I were you I'd just bunk with Kathy."
In the tag, Jim's eating the room-service desserts Kathy ordered in his bed... with Dwight. Must have aired the place out. There's a fumbling at the door -- Nellie trying to get in, because obviously Dwight wrote Jim's room number on his card. She plaintively whines that can see the light under the door, until Dwight turns Jim's lamp off, leaving her out there alone. Well, alone with another camera crew, who I'm sure are thrilled to be once again getting more footage to add to Dunder Mifflin's dedicated sexual harassment vault.
M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter , or just e-mail him at m.giant[at]gmail.com.