Pam gets up on the cherry picker she's been using to paint from and uses the megaphone to demand that the culprit identify himself (or herself, as Val closes herself into her office). Nobody's intimidated, so she comes back down and does a TH full of impotent outrage. "Val's no help, Andy's gone, Jim's out. I just feel like I'm on my own here." Then the boom mike drifts down and bumps her gently on the forehead, prompting her to grin, "I mean, okay, not completely on my own, but in terms of people who can do something. Thank you, Brian." Brian again. Must be easy to flirt when the primary tool of your job is a big furry phallus that you can stick into any part of the room.
In the Philly office, Jim and Darryl are working well together, at least until Darryl notices that Jim's drinking out of a go-cup labeled "Darryl."
Pam storms into the bullpen and orders everyone into the conference room for an emergency meeting. Dwight questions her authority to do any such thing, so Pam bluffs that David Wallace gave her the okay. Dwight buys it, and calls everyone in. Pam announces indignantly to the gathered employees that someone painted all over her mural, but gets bogged down first by an explanation to Erin about how that's bad, then a digression about Meredith's phone number on the men's room wall. Oscar politely blows her off, and indeed nobody else is as invested in this situation as she is. They soon realize David Wallace had nothing to do with calling this meeting, and most of them leave. Except Dwight, who promises to help her by saying, "If there's anything I hate worse than art, it's crime." Pam: "Thank you?" Nellie's also on the case, assuring Pam, "I believe in you, I believe in your art and I am bored." Pam THs that she was hoping for an angry mob, but both Dwight and Nellie have mob mentalities, and she's pretty sure Dwight has a pitchfork in his car. "You need my pitchfork?" Dwight asks breathlessly from the doorway. Pam seems to appreciate his commitment, at least.