In the next volley, Kevin calls the ball and misses it with a wild, one-handed swing, causing Dwight and Andy to converge on him, yelling. Dwight tries to rally the troops, only to find himself asking, "Phyllis, why are you sitting on the ground?" Still later in the game, the ball's in the air for a while, until Ryan, on his cell phone, hits it just hard enough to protect his head and knocks it to the ground. Definition of not having your head in the game (see also: "Ryan"). Dwight gets the ball back by calling a bullshit penalty on the other team, and starts to coach Pam on serving. "Back off, Dwight," she says, and powers the ball over, sending an Albany player sprawling. "What?" she asks us. Later, she admits in a TH, "Maybe I played a little in junior high. And in high school. Maybe a little in college. And went to volleyball camp most summahs!" Are there pictures? That game's in the bag, so Scranton's on to the next round of the tournament. How long is this picnic? "Oh lord in heaven," Phyllis sighs. "Had to be part of the group," Stanley chuckles from the sidelines, balancing an iced tea on his belly.
Michael and Holly go off and sit down somewhere to "rehearse," and as she eats one of the chocolate-dipped strawberries he brought, she asks about what he "has planned for us." Meaning the routine. "I just thought we'd wing it," Michael says, after recovering himself. "That cool?" "Crystal cool," Holly dorks. That kind of thing is not going to help him not miss her.
After Pam helps score another point against the next team, Phyllis suddenly says, "Ow, my ankle." You weren't even moving," Dwight correctly points out. Phyllis jogs off the court, Dwight calls for a sub, Angela stands up, and Rolf sends in Meredith, with her t-shirt in a halter and wearing black booty shorts. Angela asks what's up. "I don't hear cheaters, tramps, or women who break my friend's heart," Rolf says. Wow, someone's got a protective streak.
Michael and Holly are brainstorming ideas for their sketch, but not really getting anywhere. "We're circling it," Michael says. Indeed they are.
Scranton is beating another team, and Wallace and Charles, in black New York Corporate t-shirts, threaten pleasantly from the sidelines that they'll still beat them. Rolf gets a little to into the trash-talking: "You suckers are going down!" he screeches. "They're gonna wipe your asses with your serves! Piss all over your faces!" While Scranton tries to reel Rolf in, Toby is reminded of last fall's HR convention. "Really funny," his equally hangdog counterpart from Corporate agrees. A moment later, Scranton wins the game. Dwight even hugs Jim for making the winning spike, then releases him quickly. "Settle down, gentlemen," Oscar chuckles.