A young woman is sitting uncomfortably in a chair in the conference room, addressing the camera. She fiddles with her bright red fishtail braid, nervous about the cameras and then starts to speak:

"Oh, how I hate starting a new job; it's like fucking" (bleeped out for family-friendliness) "high school all over again. So, I guess I should introduce myself. Hi, I'm Phoebe Reynolds, and I'm a huge nerd. Okay, that sounded too much like an AA meeting…oh, well. So, I'm starting at a company called Dunder Mifflin today at the request of my bitch" (censored) "of an aunt, Jan Levinson-Gould. My official job title is File Clerk, but my 'unofficial'" (here, she uses air quotes) "is babysitter for Michael Scott, my new boss. Well, this should be interesting. Just one question: this isn't shown to Jan, right?"

The cameraman flocks me (much to my annoyance) as I exit my 1964 Austin Mini Cooper S-Spec and cross the parking lot to step into the lobby of the office building. The damn microphone box that was tucked into the back of my pencil skirt was super uncomfortable and was going to get annoying really fast—as well as the camera crew.

I enjoyed the sound of my Mary Janes clicking on the floor of the lobby (I loved that sound), which would probably be the one bright blip of my day. I skipped the elevator in favor of the stairs (I was working on losing a few extra pounds) and arrived in a narrow hallway and followed it to a door that read Dunder Mifflin Paper Company—Scranton, Pennsylvania.

I brushed down my skirt and my vintage Star Wars t-shirt (I loved my vintage clothes, as well as cars and all things nerd) and made sure my blazer was straightened before I pushed open the door to find a bland office and bland faces staring at me, making me very uncomfortable. I'm sure my bright red hair did nothing to help me blend in at not get stared at like a freak show. I was immediately greeted by a woman about my age that was sitting at the reception desk; she had slightly bushy brown hair that immediately made me think of Hermione Granger and was wearing a cardigan.

"Hi, I'm here to meet Michael Scott?" I nervously told the receptionist, only I phrased it as a question. I shifted from one foot to the other, unconsciously wringing my hands, not at all comfortable with people starting at me; I had terrible self-esteem and I hoped it wasn't showing.

"Just a minute," the receptionist said, dialing a number on her phone. "There's someone here to see you, Michael."

The office door to my left opened not even three seconds later to reveal a middle-aged man with a child-like look on his face and I was immediately dreading taking this job.

"Hello, hello!" he exclaimed loudly, making me wince. I plastered a polite smile on my face, holding out my hand to shake his, hoping my palms weren't all sweaty.

"Michael Scott, I presume," I said as he took my hand but instead of shaking it, he kissed the back of my hand, completely unprofessional. I couldn't hold back the slight wrinkle of my nose or slipping my hand out of his, but I managed to keep a slight (very forced) smile (though it was almost a grimace).

"You presume correctly," he said with an odd little bow and then gave an odd little chuckle, commenting, "Wow, you are as hot as your aunt."

"I beg your pardon?!" I cried out, widening my eyes at his rude comment. I was trying to tell myself it was because it was rude, but I was unaccustomed to any compliments and I didn't know how to take them when someone was blind enough to pay me one.

"Oops," he said, with an awkward laugh. "Did I say that out loud?"

I take a deep breath, calming myself before speaking; I didn't want to open my mouth and say something that would get me fired. "Phoebe Reynolds," I introduced myself. "So, where do I work?"

What should have taken about thirty seconds to get to my new desk, ended up being nearly an hour, Michael stopping at each desk to introduce me to everyone and chat. I knew that there was no way in hell I was going to remember everyone's names, so I plastered a large, fake smile on my face, wishing I could just go home and take a hot bath and nap.

One guy with his hair combed neatly, large glasses, and a mustard yellow shirt just glared at me (I think his name was Dwayne?) so I just gave him my best if-I-wanted-I-could-kill-you death stare before moving on, though I really couldn't if I wanted to.

Finally, finally, I was shown to my desk, rubbing my temples as I felt a rather horrible headache coming on. Michael had left me alone, showing me the rather hefty mountain of paperwork to sort through and either file or shred. Just glancing at some of the dates, I noticed some of the papers were dated from about ten years prior.

"Fuck, this is gonna take forever," I groaned to myself, sticking in my headphones to ignore the very chatty Indian woman (Karen, I think her name was?) and got to work. Thank fuck the cameramen also left me alone, most likely getting bored of watching me humming along to Jack Johnson and sorting through the endless work.

What seemed like minutes later but when I looked at the time on my computer was actually nearly three hours later, someone tapped me on the shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin to whirl around to find Pam standing behind me (her name was just about the only one I could remember). She had a look of bewilderment on her face and her hands in the air, trying to indicate that she wasn't going to hurt me.

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry!" I squealed and my ears heated up, ripping the headphones out of my ears. "When I get to working, I'm kind of a hermit."

"Oh, it's okay," Pam said with a smile. "I didn't mean to scare you, but I did try to call you a couple of times; Michael's looking for you. Apparently Jan is here."

I groaned, smacking my head on my desk as I set it down, hating my life. "I'll be right here," I told Pam weakly, listening as her footsteps left. I steeled myself, dreading having to talk to my bitch aunt; I hated the woman and I just didn't see how her and my mom were sisters. My mom was such a kind soul, back when she had been alive.

I groaned again, suddenly hitting a lazy streak, wondering if I was getting near my period, but I forced myself to my feet, snatching the meeting agenda from my desk, and marched out into the main part of the office where I once again became the center of what seemed to be a zoo exhibit. I scowled to myself, ignoring everyone as I entered Michael's office for the first time.

My aunt was sitting down, Michael beside her, where they both had been waiting for me. I smiled at Pam, ignoring the five-year-old trapped in a grown man's body and the bitch that eyed my body judgmentally, just like she always did when I saw her. I fought glaring at her as I took my seat next to Pam, closest to Michael's desk.

"Okay, now we can begin," Jan sneered, taking her eyes off of me to move to Michael. "All right, was there anything you wanted to add to the agenda?"

"Me no get an agenda," Michael said in a weird voice and I raised an eyebrow at this man. How the hell was he a manager at a company?

"I'm sorry, what?" the bitch asked, also confused, which wasn't new for her; I avoided eye contact with her.

"I didn't get any agenda," Michael said and I could see that he really didn't know what she was talking about but I narrowed my eyes at him, noticing Pam squirming in her seat.

"Oh I faxed one over to you this morning," Jan said and I glanced through my agenda that she had sent with me when I drove down from New York the previous day.

"Really? Cause I didn't..." Michael stuttered and then turned to Pam, and I narrowed my eyes at him as see started to throw poor Pam under the bus. "Did we get a fax this morning?"

"Yeah, the one—" Pam started to say, but Michael interrupted her and I let out a growl, very protective of females against idiots like this.

"Why isn't it in my hand?" Michael asked, raising an eyebrow at Pam. "Because a company runs on efficiency of communication, right? So what's the problem Pam, why didn't I get it?"

"You put it in the garbage can that was a special filing cabinet," Pam said, looking like she was ready to start crying. I flipped open my notepad, making myself a note to watch for this kind of shit in the future so poor Pam wouldn't get fired.

"Yeah, that was a joke, that was actually my brother's, it was supposed to be with bills and doesn't work great with faxes," Michael tried to cover up, sending a small glare Pam's way, though it seemed to falter when I sent him my best death glare; bros before hoes. Though, in this instance, Pam was my bro; funny how that worked.

"Do you want to look at mine?" The Bitch asked in a huffy voice, holding hers out, which Michael took from her with a, "Yeah. Thank you."

"Okay since the last meeting, Alan and the board have decided that we can't justify Scranton branch and the Stanford branch," Jan started and I took a deep breath, wondering to myself why the fuck the Bitch and Corporate would send me out here if they were just planning on closing the branch. "Michael don't panic—"

"Oh okay," Michael said quickly, interrupting her. "No, no, no, no, no, this is good, this is fine."

"Michael listen, don't panic," Jan said, trying to sooth the clearly distraught man, and I held a snort in, an idea popping into my mind: the Bitch sent me here to take care of the paperwork for her so her lazy ass didn't have to do it. "We haven't made any decisions yet, I've spoken to Josh in Stanford. I've told him the same as you, and it's up to either you or him to convince me that your branch can incorporate the other."

"Okay, no problem," Michael assured her and I was surprised at his brief adultness. Though, I didn't fully trust him and I made a note on my pad to keep an eye on him in the next couple of days. KEEP A CLOSE EYE ON THE IDIOT; MAKE SURE HE DOES NOTHING STUPID IN NEXT WEEK!

"This does however mean that there is going to be downsizing," Jan said. "Phoebe here is available to aid you with that, though her job is secure since I hired her myself."

"Me no wanna hear that Jan, because downsizing is a bitch, it is a real bitch, and I wouldn't wish that on Josh's men, I certainly wouldn't wish it on my men, or women present company excluded sorry," Michael said, reverting back to his inner five-year-old, hitting Jan on the knee with his agenda, quickly muttering an apology to her; I'm sure I looked as uncomfortable as Pam did because it was a little uncomfortable. "Is Josh concerned about downsizing himself? Not downsizing himself but is he concerned about downsizing?"

I sighed to myself, knowing this next week was going to be utter hell as I made another note to look through all the employees' files and start seeing who would be the best candidates for downsizing would be, though I really didn't look forward to making enemies.

"Question: how long do we have to—" he started before he was cut off as his phone rang. "Oh, Todd Packer, terrific rep., do you mind if I take it?"

"No, go ahead," Jan said, looking at me with a raised eyebrow, indicating that she wanted me to take notes on how Michael handled himself during a work phone call. I just rolled my eyes at her; I wasn't stupid or born yesterday.

"Pac man!" Michael greeted with a massive grin and I lifted an eyebrow as I made a note on the unprofessional greeting and then both eyebrows went up when the man on the other end spoke.

"Hey, big queen," he sneered.

"Oh, that's not appropriate," Michael stuttered out before what I considered to be a very horrible man continued.

"Hey, is old Godzillary coming in today?" Packer laughed like it was some big joke and though I hoped to never meet this man, I had to bit my lip and hide my face behind my paper to keep from laughing at the very apt description of my Bitch aunt.

"I don't know what you mean," Michael said, obviously flustered, and I snuck a peek at Jan's face to see that she was displeased.

"I've been meaning to ask you two questions: Does the carpet match the drapes? And does this niece of hers have as perky of tits as I've imagined them?"

I'm sure my jaw dropped very quickly and my eyes bugged out of my head at the bastard on the phone and I self-consciously crossed my arms over my chest as if he could see through the phone line. I let out a small squeak of protest and I heard a booming laugh from the other end before the douchebag was interrupted.

"Oh my god! That's so horrifying! Horrible, horrible person!" Michael exclaimed, hanging up on Packer, though I saw his eyes travel from Jan's…business to my chest and I nearly bit his head off, gritting my teeth together as Pam gently patted me on the shoulder.

It took a minute for the awkwardness to leave the small room, not that it really left me, before Jan decided to press on, pretending like the phone call had never happened, though I noticed that she crossed her legs, clearly still a little uncomfortable. "So do you think we can keep a lid on this for now? I don't want to worry people unnecessarily."

"No, absolutely," Michael promised and I wrote a little note in my pad, slipping it to Pam. CALL ME IF HE DOES ANYTHING STUPID, PLEASE. She nodded at me, making sure that Michael didn't see the note. "Under this regime, it will not leave this office."

"Good," Jan nodded as she stood up. "Phoebe, can I speak to you for a minute?"

I groaned internally and outwardly said, "Sure."

I followed her to the empty conference room, the cameras following us until the Bitch shut the door behind her, blocking them off, but I was sure they could still hear us from the microphones we had on our persons.

"I want you to keep an extra close eye on Michael this week," she started off.

"Done," I cut through what she was going to say next; the less she talked, the less time I spent in this room with her. "I passed Pam a note to inform me if he does anything stupid….er."

"Wait, somebody knows you're watching Michael?" Jan asked, looking ready to explode. "The whole point of you being here is they think you're just a file clerk! I have a lot riding on this branch staying and Stanford the branch folding! My career is on the line here!"

"Oh, my god, what have you done, now?" I asked her, sighing as I put a hand to my forehead.

"I just…have a lot of money one some bets with some idiots in Corporate that Stanford is the branch that gets the axe," Jan said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

'Fucking moron' was what I was screaming out from inside my head. Outwardly, I just sighed again and said, "Look, I have it under control. Plus, it's only my first day here. You could also help make it look more believable that I'm just a file clerk by not pulling me aside like a child that needs disciplined. Now, if that's all, I'm going to get back to work."

I left Jan, hopefully stunned and slack-jawed, in the conference room, making my way back to the annex and the yapping Kelly (I finally remembered her name after she informed me about half a dozen times).

Thankfully, I was able to work for the next couple hours in peace, thank fuck for headphones. A couple hours later, I found out the hard way that I really needed to have cans attached to a string or bells around everyone's necks as I received another tap to my shoulder, once again scaring the shit outta me.

"Miss Reynolds," Michael started with a weird little bow as I tried to get my heart rate under control again; this place was gonna kill me, I could just feel it. "I just wanted to come by and introduce you to our newest member from the temp agency, Ryan Howard."

It was then that I noticed someone else behind Michael; this guy looked to be maybe around my age, but a kid at the same time and I wrinkled my nose as he looked me up and down. He was totally not my type; what was it with douches hitting on me or just being plain disgusting on my first day?

"Not interested," I informed the kid, turning back to my work, popping my headphones back in to hear Maroon 5 "She Will Be Loved" playing. I ignored Michael telling Ryan loudly about how hot I was, but also most likely on my female time; I just rolled my eyes and resumed filing/shredding papers.

After trying to enjoy my lunch of leftover taco salad without everyone staring at me, I was on my way back to the annex when Michael announced, "Attention on Dunder Mifflin employees, please, we have a meeting in the conference room ASAP."

I groaned to myself, knowing that this idiot was up to something and was most likely going to spill the beans about the downsizing and I knew the only way to get out in front of this was to reveal myself as someone from Corporate and stop the rumors in their path. I sat down in the front by Pam, once again getting glared at by Mustard Shirt as Michael started off, "Now, I know there are some rumors out there, and I just kind want to see—"

"I'm assistant regional manager, I should know first," Mustard Shirt butt in, jumping up from his stoop in the corner of the room.

"Assistant to the regional manager," Michael said, trying to get the man (Dwyer?) out of his face.

"Okay, can you just tell me please? Just a whisper in my ear."

"I'm about to tell everybody. I'm just about to tell everyone," Michael said, looking annoyed at the man (Dakota?) while I just resisted the urge to start sounding like a banshee bitch, instead, resting my forehead in my palm.

"Please, okay," Mustard practically begged and I wondered what was wrong with him. "Do you want me to tell them?"

"You don't know what it is!" Michael nearly exploded and all I saw were two children that really needed to be put in timeout.

"Can you tell them, with my permission?" Mustard finally asked, finding a slight loophole.

"I don't need your—" Michael started to say with a bitchface.

"Permission granted. Go ahead," Mustard stated, ignoring his own boss completely and I wondered just what I had stepped into when I agreed to come here.

I was totally surprised, however, when Michael seemed to choose to be the bigger man and ignore Mustard and nearly shouted out, "Corporate has deemed it appropriate to enforce an ultimatum upon me, and Jan is thinking about downsizing either the Stanford branch or this branch."

"Yeah, but Michael what if they downsize here?" A Hispanic man asked and immediately, my internal voice cheered at possibly finding my new gay best friend; though people here may not know that this man was gay. It was then that I knew I had to intervene or else Michael was going to cause one hell of a train wreck.

"Excuse me, Michael? Can I speak to you outside for a moment?" I asked politely and when he looked like he was ready to argue, I glared at him and barked out, "Now!"

"Not gonna happen," Michael answered the Hispanic man before following me out the door. He whirled on me the second the conference room door was closed and started to say, "How dare you—"

"Shut up and listen, because I'm only going to say this once, Mr. Scott," I interrupted him, putting my hands on my hips. "I'm not just some dumb file clerk or Jan's pitiful little niece, okay? I'm from Corporate and the higher ups have deemed it necessary to have me come in and keep an eye on you. What you just did in there—not cool. At all. Jan specifically told you not to tell anyone, that it was all speculations right now. So now, I'm going to have to go in there and clean up your mess. Excuse me."

I pushed passed Michael and went back into the conference room, clearing my throat before I said, "I'm sorry, everyone. If you don't know, my name is Phoebe Reynolds, and yes, I'm Jan's niece, but honestly, I hate the woman."

That earned her a few chuckled in the room before it went silent again.

"So, let's get down to business. Downsizing. Yes, it's a scary thought, but at this moment, it's only rumors and speculation. The big boss guys upstairs haven't really figured out what's going to happen at this point and what Jan told Michael was in confidence; he should have never told any of you. Please, don't let this panic any of you and let's try to get back to work and finish the day up so we can go home to our families. I'll be in the annex if any of you have questions or papers that need shredded or filed."

I took a deep breath and left the conference room, hoping that everyone would just get back to work, but I knew that the panic and paranoia was set in too deeply at this point and I knew that they would get back to arguing the point after I left. I just chose to ignore the world and slid my headphone back on, listening to The Proclaimers "I'm Gonna Be".

Thank fuck I was left alone for the rest of the day, finally able to get some work done, but at the end of the day, I was called in the conference room by the camera crew for another interview.

"How is my first day going? Complete and utter hell, that how. I'm pretty sure everyone here hates my guts at this point and the Bitch (bleeped out) is going to be furious that I've essentially broken cover on my first day, but what was I supposed to do? Let them tear each other to pieces, go on strike, get somebody fired because they did something stupid over this? No, I had to step in. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be miserable here for the foreseeable future."

Before I left for the day, I got invited to go out for drinks with the rest of the office by Jim, much to my surprise. I had been walking by his desk when he asked and I heard collectible and very audible groans from around the small area as everyone tried to dissuade him from asking. I could feel tears starting to well in the corners of my eyes and my throat close up as I politely declined, coming up with a bullshit excuse that I still had to unpack, which I had already finished.

I was able to make it to my car before I broke down and I was sure that it was caught on camera, despite turning my mic off. If I hadn't been too busy crying my eyes out in the parking lot, I probably would have seen Mustard standing at the entrance of the building, watching me.