Darryl and Val return to the warehouse with the coffee, bantering a bit. Gabe, seeing his window about to close, makes his move, inviting Val to go drink wine with him at the cemetery. Even in the face of such a tempting offer, Val says she doesn't date coworkers, and as Gabe offers to quit, Darryl gives the camera a look. Then he THs that it's a good policy. Aw. Too bad he didn't have that policy before he started dating Erin.
Jim plays squash like Herman Munster, but without the strength.
The people at the office are stressing out about the time, as Oscar says there are only fifteen minutes left. "Now you can do math?" Angela snaps. "Where were you two hours ago, Beautiful Mind?" Stanley proposes a plan begins with a client petition and sadly ends with "Shove it up your butt." Aw, I remember when this show used to do callbacks.
At the farm, Dwight and the others are sitting around his table eating pie. Pam stops Kevin from sneaking up behind Dwight and hitting him on the head with a frying pan. Kevin must have finished his pie first. Pam, who spilled something on her shirt, lamely cracks that "Pobody's nerfect." Dwight rags on her, "Nice stroke, Pam," so Pam just explains the joke, which Dwight seems to appreciate. Andy tires to get back to the point, but Pam calls him off. She's now so certain that Dwight will cancel the e-mail on his own that they end up leaving without saying another word about it. Dwight waves from the porch, saying, "Sive drafely."
Jim suddenly stops playing squash to get what he pretends is his phone, which is of course Robert's. Robert can tell, by how Jim got it out of Robert's bag. Jim doesn't manage to get away with deleting unread the e-mail that just came through, or with breaking the phone by throwing it in a bad toss to Robert. As Robert checks the phone, Jim nervously asks if it's anything interesting, but apparently it's just spam. Jim figures he's done, but now it's Robert's serve. Well, at least Jim's getting a squash lesson out of it.
Driving back to the office, Pam gets a text that the device has been stopped. The message is relayed to the office, where everyone celebrates like they're on the bridge of Galactica. Dwight shares some closing thoughts as he digs the gas-station cap out of the horse grave: "They're not my favorite people in the world. I wouldn't even call them friends. They come over here, eat my pie, dig the crappiest horse grave you've ever seen. God, I'm going to have to work with them forever, aren't I?" But for now, he's enjoying some time in his rocking chair, on the porch, in his new dirty cap. Best his hair's looked in seven years.