Jim's ready to head home, but Pam's still hard at work. Jim's kind of a dick without realizing it here, telling her she probably doesn't need to work herself too hard here, since it's Michael's commercial and no one is ever going to see it. Instead of thanking her boyfriend for reminding her just how futile the only real task she's ever been asked to perform at this job is, Pam just smiles and says, "It's not good enough for me yet." Jim offers to stay, but Pam says it's fine. Out in the lot, Jim kind of redeems himself by interviewing that he's proud of her for working on "achieving her dream." Then Meredith hollers at him, saying if he still wants a ride home it's time to "piss or get off the pot!" Meredith, he's never going to go beyond signing your pelvis cast if you keep up with the trucker language!
The next morning, Pam wakes up to the sound of her phone ringing. Yes, she slept at her desk. She's a real worker now! Jim's the one who called her, and he's also the one who bought her a breakfast sandwich and orange juice and put it on her desk for her. I'm sorry, what did I say about him acting like a dick? Disregard. In case you were wondering, yes, you can buy my love with breakfast sandwiches. Jim does apologize for looking away for a split second, allowing Creed to gank her hash browns. Pam interviews that she worked until 2:45 AM, then had to decide if she wanted to sleep in the office -- with Michael and also Dwight -- or drive home, fall asleep at the wheel, and die in a fiery car wreck; "I fell asleep on my keyboard trying to decide."
Dwight's got his face forlornly pressed up against the vending machine while Andy offers to pour him some "bubbly" and regale him with tales of his night with Angela. The "bubbly" is of course cola, and...oh my God, it's Wegmans pop ("Dr. W" if I'm not mistaking the color of the can). I miss you, Wegmans! Anyway, Dwight doesn't want to hear about it, but Andy insists. He says he was kissing up on Angela last night, and while she wasn't kissing him back, she did close her eyes and start to moan, "Oh, D! Oh, D!" Andy's like, "'D' for Andy, get it?" Dwight gets it far better than Andy, though, and is thrilled, in that weird, creepy way in which Dwight expresses joy. He starts repeating "Oh, D!" over and over, and Andy joins him, and pretty soon they're in unison, yelling "Oh, D!" to the empty break room. Dwight's never seemed more like a serial killer than in these last few episodes. I think killing that cat may have opened a door in his psyche.