Pam takes notes as Michael lies inconsolably on the floor behind his desk, dictating his need for a "middle-aged black man with sass, big butt, bigger heart." I'm not sure Michael realizes that he's replacing Stanley and not Uncle Phil from The Fresh Prince Of Bel-Air, but anyway, the dictation doesn't get much further than that before Stanley lets himself in and asks for a word. Pam leaves, and Stanley tells Michael he's going to stay. Michael is incredulous, but thrilled. Stanley interviews that he never actually intended to leave; he just wanted a raise: "How on earth did Michael call my bluff? Is he some sort of secret genius?" At this, Stanley cracks himself up. See, could he get that in Utica? I bet Karen doesn't allow laughter in the branch because it reminds her of Jim.
Speaking of whom...Jim wanders over to Pam's desk. She tells him how sorry she is about his humiliating day, but suggests that he might feel better after enjoying some of the finer things in life, and uncovers a plate with a couple of leftover finger sandwiches on it. He guesses that she's inviting him to the Finer Things Club. Pam nods excitedly. Across the bullpen, Andy throws up his hands: "Oh, COME ON!" What's Andy gotta do to prove his worthiness -- show how well he can fold their gay tablecloths? I mean, honestly.
After commercials, we're at the next meeting of the FTC. This time, they're discussing Angela's Ashes, the guys in tweed driving caps, and Pam in a silk kerchief, each dining on a baked potato. Jim kicks off with a corny Irish accent. Everyone else patiently suffers through it until Jim shuts up and Oscar asks if he's got it out of his system. Jim quietly says he does, and says he thought the book was a fun read. Toby accusatorily asks what was fun about it: "The death of the twins?" As Pam turns to Oscar and mouths an apology, Jim is totally busted for not having read the book. Man, if Andy could see the buffoon who got his rightful place in the club, he would punch ten more holes in the wall.