Kelly's enjoying her unhealthy lunch in the break room when Michael comes in to give her a hard time about it, because he has the memory of a goldfish. Jim enters to say he's off to lunch with a client, which Michael says is fine. "Nothing but water," he orders, "and be back by weigh-in." Jim agrees. I hope not being able to eat doesn't interfere with his lunch plans. What? Not like that.

Wearing garbage bags, Dwight sprays the bug-infested nightmare inside the vending machine with Raid. And Angela has decided to get reasonable with Andy, asking if their first dance can be to "The Little Drummer Boy." Andy's only too happy to oblige, plus, "the guys already know it." "The guys" being "Nothing But Treble," his old a capella group, who he booked for the wedding, and who will be his collective best man, AND who will be staying with them for three weeks. Angela's uncertain about this, which Andy calls a deal-breaker. But then he backs off the hardline attitude, trying to jolly her along by rattling off all their horrible nicknames. Of which there are dismayingly many. Andy's for the record, is "Boner Champ." So the next thing you know, Dwight's pager is humming again.

At a windy, rainy gas station somewhere, Jim meets Pam. She's still complaining good-naturedly about which of them had to drive further when he drops to one knee right there on the concrete slab next to the gas pumps and proposes. "I can't wait any more," he says. Who is this guy? She happily says yes. They kiss, they hug. It's everything you imagined, except it's at a windy, rainy rest stop and she has a class at 4:00 and he has to rush back to Scranton to get weighed. Their grandkids won't believe it. Good thing it's on film.