Ryan, who looks bored and a bit above it all, wins a game of guess-who-will-step-off-the-elevator, and he gets a medal. As Ryan fails to bask in his victory, Pam tells Jim that she made something for later for the closing ceremonies. She's carrying it in a box, and she opens it to let Jim peek inside. "Oh my God," he enthuses. "Where did you have time to make that?" "Automatic voice mail," she says. They high-five, and she laughs. "Nice work," he tells her. He walks off, and she glows, but then she sees Angela staring at her and making a mark on a Post-It.
In the car, Dwight reminds Michael that he can always pay the mortgage off early, but Michael is still so mad that he goes wildly off the point, just blasting Dwight with irrelevant social commentary about how much everyone hates beets. Michael thinks Dwight should grow something people like. Like candy! Michael wishes he had a piece of candy, and definitely not a beet. Dwight starts to put the top down, but Michael swats his hand away. Aw.
Jim is timing a race around the office with full cups of coffee between Oscar and Toby. It's all going fine, but it ends abruptly when Michael and Dwight appear. A fearless Jim wants to keep the race going, but all the oxygen has left the room, and everyone sinks back down into their chairs. Dwight wants his stopwatch back. Jim, looking angry and defeated, hands it back and sits down. Pam watches him sympathetically. It was a race with coffee cups, but it was important.
Later, Michael pouts in his office. He fondles his keys, then he lets his head drop to his desk. Pam types, her precious yogurt-lid medals shining on her desk. Jim hands his expense report to Oscar. He THs that doing that, and closing two sales at lunchtime, was his entire productivity for the day, and it was just about as productive a day as he ever has.
Pam finds herself accidentally looking on as Ryan drops his medals into the trash. He sees her see him. He looks guilty, but he says nothing, and she says nothing. In a TH, Ryan explains that it was nice of Pam to do it and everything, but it was either throw them around now or throw them away later. What's he going to do with a medal made from a yogurt lid? What indeed, Ryan. What indeed. Jim's medals, of course, dangle from his desk lamp. Something seems to give him a second wind, because he makes his way over to reception. "I have 59 voicemails," Pam tells him. "Hmm. Hey, can you...ignore those and do something for me instead?" he asks. "Sure," she says easily, putting down the phone. Heh. He tells her that at 5:00, they're having closing ceremonies. "Really?" she says hopefully. "Notify the athletes," he says.