And then there's Pam. Whose anger has a good side, because it's actually more like Jim's disaffected pep than anything else, when it's not her own life getting compressed down to this angry, tiny, one-dimensional point by her awful choices. It's not the things she says: "Yay, Kevin! Whoo hoo for Kevin! For stinking up the bathroom!" They catch on, and begin to clap. Jim shouts for Kevin; more Dunder-Mifflinites clapping, but her revolution knows no bounds. This isn't about Kevin, it's about Michael, and if it's about Michael (and she's seen Jim do this before, and she'll see him do it a hundred times more), then it's worth the sacrifice of shame: "Hey! I haven't gotten one yet!"

Jim, unsure about her particular Dundie, shouts that he hasn't gotten one either. "So keep going!" Pam and Jim clap, in unison, for all the world like it's Tinkerbell: "More Dundies! Dundies! Dundies! Dundies! Dundies!" And the rest of the company -- of the restaurant, perhaps -- joins in. "Dundies! Dundies!" And Tinkerbell revives.

"Okay! All right! We'll keep rolling," smiles Michael, breathing strong again. "Okay, this is the Fine Work award. This goes to Stanley, for all the Fine Work he did this year." Drunk Pam screams for Stanley, and for the Fineness of his Work. Pam screams for a speech, even as Michael tries to explain away how generic the award is ("You know you did [Fine Work]!" he shouts), and Stanley even gets into the spirit: "Well, last year I got Great Work, so I don't know what to think about this award. But at least I didn't get Smelliest Bowel Movement like Kevin." Everyone laughs; Pam and Kevin and Stanley laugh. They're not angry, they're drunk. Michael introduces the next award: "...going out to our own little Pam Beesley..." Jim's face, Pam's face, Pam's buzz all hit the floor. Not so funny all of a sudden. "I think we all know what award Pam is going to be getting this year!" Michael screams, and Jim stares...