In some back room, a shelter worker is giving Andy a briefing on the dogs' extensive care requirements. Actually, it's not a briefing at all, is how detailed the instructions are. In fact, why did all twelve dogs get schlepped to the hotel in the first place? Andy maintains his calm demeanor, talking about the therapy dog he's bonding with at this moment. "He apparently thinks you're in some kind of emotional crisis," the worker explains. "Stupid dog," Andy chuckles unconvincingly.

Jim, Pam, and Oscar look on from across the room as Meredith becomes the latest person to score the state senator's cell number. Well, that puts the last nail in the coffin of Oscar's theory. Pam tells Oscar she's sorry, but Oscar THs that he's not disappointed. "I'd have to be a monster to root for that. A lonely, aging monster."

Darryl returns to Nellie with the eight tacos he got for three dollars at the taco stand. And no change, she's classy enough not to mention. She unwraps one and regards it uncertainly, and then Darryl sits back and laughs while she tries to bite into it without turning either her face or the taco. "She's trying," he THs. I still don't know why.

The emcee is announcing the winners of the silent auction, all of which seem to be Dwight, who seems pretty happy about his sweeping victory. "All I had to do was look up the prices, idiots! Suck it! "But his smile fades when she announces that his "donation" is the largest ever: $34,000. There's some actual applause at that, and Jim gives the camera what wee think is a sympathetic look, until he stands up and calls, "Speech!" Eventually Dwight is prevailed upon to accept the microphone, and emotionally talks about the honor of supporting "this...thing." He adds unconvincingly that "Obviously that amount of money is no concern to me whatsoever." But then he turns on them, asking when it became all about the money, decrying the expense of the dinner. "So that is going to be my donation to you. Thank you and goodnight." And then he tosses the mic at the emcee and runs out. So it's both a good night and a bad night for the dog shelter.

Oscar says goodnight to the state senator, who reminds him to call and leaves his hand on Oscar's shoulder a little long. "Why does this always happen to me?" he THs. "I just feel so bad for Angela." Clearly.