Entry 1
Awoke at 5:00 AM to the Michael Scott Paper Company theme song on repeat, which is surprisingly terrifying at that hour.
We were literally hosed down in silence while chanting “I am Beyoncé, always.” I was shivering so hard I bit my tongue.
They handed me a mustard shirt and oversized glasses. “We are all Dwight now,” they said, solemnly.
Where do they even get these?
“Michael”, the Leader, told us, “The early worm gets the bird!” Everyone laughed way too hard, like hyenas at a dinner theater.
I got a Schrute Buck for folding chairs. They say they’ll be worth a fortune one day.
Feels like a corporate retreat run by lunatics. 10/10 ironically.
Entry 2
We spent the morning meditation chanting “That’s what she said” fifty times in perfect unison. By repetition 30, I felt I finally understood what she said. Spiritually.
Breakfast was Kevin’s Famous Chili. It tasted like carpet fibers marinated in existential regret.
Study session meant watching The Office at half speed while taking notes on “The Doctrine.” We were told: “Laughter is holy but must be measured.”
Small talk is banned. I whispered to the person next to me, and they threatened to demote me to Toby.
As punishment, they gave me the Conflict Resolution Binder to memorize.
Honestly, they’re so committed. It’s like summer camp if summer camp had a dress code and emotional blackmail.
Entry 3
This morning began with Michael screaming “BANKRUPTCY!” at 5 AM as our wake-up bell.
We had to go door-to-door selling single sheets of paper. I sold none. The “Head Dwights” sold dozens and told me I need to make more eye contact.
I got scolded for calling it a cult. It’s a “family business’’ and “Business is the most personal thing in the world,” they lectured. Not sure what that means, but it sounded legally binding.
Lunch was forced confessions. I admitted once using a Staples coupon and got locked in the “Scott’s Tots Room” to think about what i had done.
Dinner was silent except for the “Head Dwights” reciting “The Rules of Beet Farming” while the designated “Tobys” sat in the corner quietly ruining everything.
I think I want to go home.
Entry 4
5:00 AM freezing shower. They say cold purifies “like Kevin’s Chili cleanses sin.” Which doesn’t make sense because they all cheered when I spilled it yesterday,
Meditation was chanting “Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.” until people started hallucinating actual beets.
We spent craft time making Schrute Bucks with our own blood from papercuts.
Lunch was another confessional circle. I had to admit thinking Jim was “cute.” The group hissed.
Dinner was cold oatmeal while “Michael” delivered a 30-minute prophecy about “Threat Level Midnight.”
They handed out Dundies. I got “Most Likely to Escape.” I laughed too hard. They didn’t.
Leader says I need “re-education” tomorrow.
They’re watching me write this.
Tomorrow’s “Fun Run” is apparently mandatory.
Not sure I’ll finish this journal.
Entry 5
5:00 AM bells.
Silence.
Hose.
Chant.
Michael’s voice screaming from the speakers: “I am your boss. Forever.”
They dragged me to the Scott’s Tots Room for punishment.
No windows.
No sound but That’s What She Said on endless loop.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed.
They told me I can leave when I “become Dwight.”
They made me watch Dinner Party with my eyes forced open.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
I’m not supposed to be writing this.
They’re coming.
[ENTRY ENDS ABRUPTLY]