When Robert California orders Andy to put an end to the branch's myriad mistakes, Dwight senses an opportunity. Having suddenly become a computer genius, he instantly devises, installs and implements a software program that will monitor everyone's errors. If five mistakes are made in one day, an e-mail will automatically sent to Robert California containing a consultant's report recommending a closing of the branch, along with every snarky remark that everyone in the office is too stupid not to put in their work e-mails. He calls it the "Accountability Booster," but everyone else calls it the "Doomsday Device." I call it no better than they deserve, if they can't keep their CEO-bashing strictly oral.
In any case, the staff doesn't make it to 3:30 without racking up five mistakes. Everyone pleads with Dwight to shut down the device before it automatically sends the e-mail at 5:00, but he not only refuses, he goes home. While Andy leads an away team to Schrute Farms to reason with him, it falls to Jim to go find Robert at the racquet club and try to intercept the e-mail, if it comes in, while everyone else waits at the office for the hammer to fall. Dwight doesn't seem receptive to the group's overtures, but Pam employs a light touch, flattering Dwight and joking around with him until she's confident he'll shut down the device on his own.
In the warehouse, it's safety training day, so we meet some of the new warehouse crew. One of them is an attractive young woman named Val, who Darryl (single again) seems to dig, and who could blame him? Alas, Gabe has also set his cap for her. He hijacks the safety meeting in an effort to impress Val. It looks like Darryl's going to turn it around on Gabe, but when Gabe clumsily asks her for a date, it turns out she doesn't date coworkers. So I guess Darryl's lucky Gabe found that out for him. It also means Val is quite the anomaly at this workplace.
And yes, Dwight shuts down the device. Good thing he was able to do so remotely.
At five to five, Andy flickers the lights, does a cheesy bartender impression, and turns on a boom box playing "Closing Time" by my hometown boys Semisonic. Andy Talking Heads that this is his end-of-day tradition, to cap off the day and keep people from having to go home and deal with a night that just feels like more day. Or, Andy, you could go on a 32nd date with your imaginary girlfriend. But instead, Andy apparently insists on going around and loudly singing along, even as people are trying to do work. Andy makes Pam sing along, even though after 105 days of Andy being manager (which means 105 repetitions of the song), she still doesn't know the words. Seriously, he does this every day? But apparently this is the day he gets mad at everyone else's lack of participation and decides no traditions, like that's going to upset anyone at all. Then Stanley comes in from the kitchen, happily crooning along. Stanley THs that he'd never heard it before and didn't care for it, but given that it means it's time to go home, it's his new favorite song. So it looks like that'll be enough to keep Andy going on indefinitely. I'm sure everyone else appreciates that a lot.
Andy and Robert California (I don't know why I always feel the need to type his whole name, but I do) are enjoying an awkward pause in the conference room, then suddenly both start talking. Robert blows past Andy's attempt at a conversation-starter about favorite Iron Chefs to say he's not happy with the ticketing reports, whatever that is. Apparently the office is rife with mistakes. When Andy tries to launch into an explanation, Dwight comes in and sits down with his notepad, like he was called in. But that bulling into things the way he does doesn't really work on Robert, so Dwight slinks out.
In a TH, Dwight blames his misstep on a dream he had last night about a world where Number Two is the most valued position. "As with all my dreams, I'm guessing it was about my fear of immigrants." Back to the plot, in which Robert points out a costly accounting error just as one example. Andy's digression into whimsically characterizing the whole accounting department prompts Robert to say, "Sometimes I feel like you don't know me at all." Andy readily agrees. Robert makes his point: "End the mistakes." If Andy does that, they can talk about Andy's nicknames as much as Andy wants (which Andy takes as a promise rather than the dry mocking it's intended as. Robert's out, but not before delivering a parting shot about Andy's understanding of Iron Chef: "Sometimes I feel like you don't know food at all." Indeed, the list of things Andy doesn't know at all is a long one.