Michael stumbles out some variation on how Dwight needs to shut up. "Just...don't. I don't have time for this right now." Dwight whines, about repercussions and the like, talking over him, until Michael loses all control and screams another nonverbal, something like "STAPP IT YAPP IT!" It's intense. It's easy to enjoy Michael's Hooters crush on Jim, or his total gay love crush on Ryan; it's a lot uglier to see the way he puts his social anxieties off on Dwight; his laziness on Kevin; his desperation on Meredith. (Or most especially, in these two episodes: his ambivalence about being middle management -- stuck between employees and higher-ups -- that gets expressed in his pretty scary, constant hatred of Toby.) Same energy, different direction. Same man.

Michael scratches his forehead, addresses the camera as he does in these moments. "Okay look, I know there have been a lot of rumors flying around about the Dundies this year. [There have not been.] How there is no money [Nobody knew that.], and how there is no food [Ditto.], and how the jokes are really bad [...], but what the hell, everybody? I mean...God!"

Dilbert is simultaneously hilarious and boring as shit because we all know it, every single bit of it; it's no more than Ziggy in a cube farm. You've seen every single person in the office have to carry and bear witness to this kind of personal shit. What makes this show art is the beauty and sincerity of what comes after: "The Dundies are about the best, in every one of us." Same energy, different direction. Same man: "Can't you see that? I mean, okay: we can do better." And then Michael's inability to risk dislike: "So tonight, for the first time, we are inviting all of your friends and family to attend the awards with us." The only thing that will make up for the failure that only he knows about -- that he's been steadily ignoring, party after party. Dwight -- who has neither friends nor family -- gives a fist pump; Stanley grins. Michael beams, soaking up this temporary and completely false approval; but if you know Michael, you can see the fear. And if you love him, you share it.

Dundies Night. Dwight welcomes us with Reveille and is brutally ignored, as usual, by everyone. He continues, as usual, undeterred. "Keep your acceptance speeches short, I have wrap-it-up music, and I'm not afraid to use it, Devon." He points accusingly at a random, and then cues up "O.P.P." Oh, hell. Michael enters in a hooded sweatshirt. Check out the hooks while his DJ revolves it: "Dave, drop a load on 'em / The Dundies, how can I explain it? Awards you like to hate it / I'm psyched you all made it / You never had to work so hard and feel that no one notices you / You're just a name and number and no one even says hello..." This last as Ryan the Temp, obviously, is breathless and flipping through cue card after cue card; needless to say Michael's not what you'd call "rapping" in "time" to the music. It's eerily like what would happen if Bob Dylan worked at Taco Bell post-lobotomy, music video by Crispin Glover.