Later, Dwight distributes information to everyone, displaying his usual, squirrel-like efficiency. He THs that he "slashed benefits to the bone," and that he saved money, so he did his job. He goes on to explain that "in the wild, there is no health care," and in the wild, you just get eaten. He does have a point, you must admit. Yet another lesson to be taken from the fact that there are no monkey doctors. Out in the office, the workers predictably fret about the deductible, the loss of vision and dental, the requirement that all surgery be performed by apprentice barbers, and whatever other horrors Dwight has managed to visit upon them.
Michael's Chickenshit Shuffle begins as he calls Pam from inside his office, and as the camera peers between the slats in the closed blinds at his office window, we can just see that he's pushing a toy D-M truck around his desk and whining about how busy he is. When Pam reports that there's unrest among the peasants over the terrible health plan, Michael tells her that he can't talk, because he has to go answer a call. He's forgotten that Pam can see his phone line, so he's chosen the one excuse she can actually determine to be untrue. The fact that she busts him immediately doesn't stop him from doing it again about two minutes later. He's a pro, that one.
Later, Jim and Pam storm the Dwight Schrute Work Space, and Jim and Dwight participate in some hellacious wrangling over the difference between an office and a workspace, as well as over Dwight's assertion that he is Jim's superior, a notion that seems to disquiet Jim at a level usually reserved for YouTube videos of guys getting hit in the junk with crowbars. Pam cuts to the chase, accusing Dwight of selecting a "ridiculously awful plan." Dwight happily agrees when Jim claims that Dwight cut more than he needed to, going on to say that he doesn't personally need any health care himself, because he's never been sick. Jim calls out what would logically be Dwight's resulting lack of antibodies, but Dwight is convinced he needs no antibodies -- he has such strength of spirit that he can raise and lower his cholesterol with his mind. "Why would you want to raise your cholesterol?" asks Pam. "So I can lower it," Dwight responds. She asked for it, you have to admit.
The accountants discuss Michael's hiding game amongst themselves, and Kevin happily burbles that Michael will need the potty sometime, and the potty's out here. Indeed, Michael winds up being hopped upon by Meredith and Oscar when he emerges from the bathroom. When the whole staff corners him, Michael acts like he had nothing to do with the draconian changes, and he sends Dwight back to rethink the plan. This seems to postpone the immediate crisis, but Michael still feels so uncomfortable sitting in the same room with the idea that people are displeased with him that he starts to improv, which is never, never, ever good for him -- here, he winds up announcing that there will be a great surprise at the end of the day. Nobody believes him. In his office for a TH, Michael admits that he doesn't know what the surprise is going to be, but he's thrilled, because everyone is out in the office right this minute thinking about how awesome Michael is and how much they adore him. INDEED. I must say, I can think of no one who needs to be loved as much with this kind of grasping, ultimately futile fire in the belly, unless it's Robin Williams. A comparison Michael would incorrectly find flattering, if you think about it.