Hey, cold open! Specifically, we are staring at two cars in the DM parking lot as Michael explains that he's both a night owl and an early bird. Hmm. "So I'm wise, and I have worms." Hey, one for two isn't bad. Or...actually, it is. We come inside his office, where Ryan is entering with the breakfast sandwich Michael asked him to pick up. With that out of the way, Ryan asks what Michael needed him to come in early for. It was...just the sandwich, as it turns out. Michael couldn't...go through the drive-through? Guess not. Michael encourages Ryan to run wild in the office for a few hours in his underpants. No, he really does...but he seems to think he can tie it to Risky Business. A glaring Ryan says he'll just be sleeping in his car until it's time for work. Left alone, Michael peels off half the biscuit ("Healthier!") and takes a big bite.
Credits. Wait, who circles things with highlighter? That's misuse of highlighter, is what that is.
Michael tells us that this is the day he becomes a homeowner. Dwight, over his shoulder, is throwing in helpful little comments about how smart ownership is. Michael mentions that in the olden days, you couldn't even vote if you didn't own property -- they'd put you in the stocks! Dwight thinks they should bring back the stocks. I have a feeling that if you asked him, Dwight would happily build the stocks himself, as a matter of fact.
Out at his desk, Jim appears to be working away normally, but then he dramatically swoons forward, dropping his face on his keyboard. Pam smiles. She THs that sometimes, in the middle of the day, Jim dies of boredom, and it's her job to revive him. We next find him at reception, where she's explaining that one of the things she enjoys doing is trying to throw things into Dwight's coffee mug when he's not there. Jim finds this very promising. They try a Post-It and a paper clip, and then one of Dwight's messages.
Michael is getting ready to leave for his new condo, and Dwight is (naturally) begging to come along. Dwight argues that he's always Michael's right-hand guy at work, but Michael scoffs that this isn't about work. Ever the slightly passive-aggressive apple-polisher, Dwight asks whether that means he's taking personal time for it. This, of course, motivates Michael to switch gears and explain how his condo actually is related to work, and finally, he allows Dwight to tag along. Dwight THs that he and Michael are a great team. They could be a famous team. Michael? He's like Mozart. Dwight? He's like..."Mozart's friend." I think the next great shirt will just say "I'm Like Mozart's Friend." Undeterred as usual by his own senselessness, Dwight tries again: "I'm like Butch Cassidy. And Michael is like...Mozart." You have to admit, that would be a good movie. Lots of flutes and revolvers.