The Delivery (Part 1)
Written By: Daniel Chun Directed By: Seth Gordon Transcribed By: Admin [Pam sits at her desk and talks on the phone to a client] Pam: I just wanted to check and see if there's anything you needed before I went on my maternity leave... Yeah, I'm pregnant... Great, well, I'll write up the order. Okay, thanks. Dwight: Wait a minute. You can't do that. You cannot exploit your baby for sales. Jim: [on the phone] Hey, did I tell you we were going to have a baby? Oh, thank you very much. I'm excite—Oh! Definitely. Dwight: No. No! You need to come by your sales honorably! Pam: There is nothing dishonorable about talking about your life. People like it. [Dwight sits at his desk and talks on the phone to a client] Dwight: Hey, there. Dwight Schrute here. Listen, uh, would you be interested in restocking on paper? Yeah, I could sure use the money. My cousin, uh, came down with a case of that nasty new goat fungus. Oh, it's just horrific. The doctor says he'd never seen it beard so quickly. Okay. [hangs up phone] Dwight: I need a baby. I'll never outsell Jim and Pam without one. Also, I've been noticing a gaping hole in my life. Sometimes I wake up cradling a gourd. [Kevin and Pam sit at the kitchen table with plates of food] Pam: Kevin, you're such a gourmand. Kevin: I cooked my way through Julia Childs' cookbook, and now, I'm halfway through the Twilight cookbook. Last night, I had Edward's cornflake chicken. Pam: Hmm. Kevin: Pregnant Pam and I, we get hungry at the same times, so we've been eating together a lot--not all meals. Just second breakfast, lunch, second lunch, and first dinner. Kevin: I thought that maybe we should do something special for early dinner. One last ultra-feast. Pam: Mmm, that sounds great. What are you thinking? Kevin: I think it should be a surprise. Pam: [pained groan] Meredith: Ooh, getting there, huh? Pam: No, no. I still have time. Pam: I'm having contractions, but they're irregular and far apart. So, I'm not really in labor, I'm near labor. Jim: Yeah, we're slow playing it because of our stupid HMO. Pam: If we check in after midnight, I get an extra day to recuperate, surrounded by doctors. Jim: Not to mention the extra night's sleep in the hospital will be very nice, because once we bring the baby home, if it's crying all night, one of us is gonna have to take care of it. And I do not plan on helping unless it's a boy. Pam: I cannot wait for that joke to be over. [Pam leans against the printer] Pam: Ooh. Michael: [Michael jumps up from his desk and runs over to Pam] Michae: Ho, ho, ho! “Contraption”! She's “contrapting”! Okay, you know what? I think that I should drive you guys to the hospital, and here is why. I am a licensed, class “C” driver in the state of Pennsylvania. Jim: Michael… Michael: I gassed up the car. Actually, I put diesel in this time—try to save some money. Jim: Michael, you shouldn't have done that. Michael: Happy to do it. Also, I did a heck of a job baby-proofing this office. Pam: You know the baby's not gonna live here, right? Michael: Well, the baby was conceived here, so might as well live here a little bit, too. Jim: Hmm, that logic's air-tight, but unfortunately it wasn't conceived here... Burning Man, port-a-potty. Michael: Ooh! Yuck! TMI! How was it? I don't wanna know. Tell me later. Let's go! Let's go! Hospital! Pam: Okay, okay, we're not going to the hospital. We are waiting until midnight. Erin: Ooh, spooky. But why? Jim: Because the insurance company only covers two nights. Pam: Everything's fine. We have plenty of time. Nick: Well, you don't want to wait too long, Pam. Otherwise the baby's gonna become a teenager in there, and you'll be up all night, from the rock music. Michael: Shut up, Nick. God. What a weird thing to say. Weird I.T. nerd. Don't get revenge on me, nerd. Nick: [scoffs] [looks at Angela] Angela: What are you looking at? Dwight: Ha, nerd. Kelly: Did you know that labor can last weeks? And they take your insides out and they just plop ‘em on a table. And sometimes epidurals don't work, and you can poop yourself. [Angela sits at a table eating in the breakroom, Dwight enters] Dwight: Bare my child. Angela: Excuse me? Dwight: I want to have a child for business reasons, and I want you to be the mother. If you agree, say nothing. If you disagree, say anything. Very well. Let's meet at 4PM at our old meeting spot and bang it out. [leaves the breakroom] [Pam sits at her desk, and has a contraction] Pam: Hoo… Jim: [Jim runs out of Michae’s office] That's seven minutes. Here we go. This is happening. Come on. Pam: Hold on, hold on. It isn't midnight yet. Jim: Are you--Are you serious? Pam… Pam: No, the doctor said every five to seven minutes. Jim: I-- Pam: I'm gonna be okay, we should really try to make it until midnight. Jim: Pam, please. Andy: Yeah. No, you really should. ‘Cause if your baby's born tomorrow, he's gonna have the same birthday as Butt-mud Brooks. My old roommate. Pam: Did you hear that? Butt-mud Brooks. Jim: Okay, but we are leaving at five minutes apart. Pam: Five minutes apart. Jim: So, the plan was seven minutes. But we're calling an audible, because that's her call, ‘cause she's the quarterback. I'm just the left tackle who happened to get her pregnant. [Pam sits down at her desk, wincing, Jim watches her] Pam: [quietly] Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay… Okay, stop watching me. Jim: Okay, crazy. I think I have some better things to do with my day than worry about you, like sell printers. Pam: Mm-hmm. Jim: Well, now til Friday twenty percent off toner cartridges, that's a big deal. While we're on the subject, why don't I just run you down to the hospital and we'll just do a quick check? Pam: Not until midnight. Andy: Guys... Word of advice. Speaking as a former baby. Don't get too hung up on baby names. I was named Walter Jr., after my father, until I was about six or so, when my parents changed their minds. Erin: I thought you said your younger brother was named Walter Jr. Andy: My brother was born, and my parents felt he better exemplified the Walter Jr. name, so they gave it to him. I was given “Andrew”, which they got out of a baby name book. [Jim sits at his desk, Michael stands behind him] Michael: [quietly] How’s it going? Jim: You know? It's getting real crowded in here. Maybe you guys should all go back to work, ‘cause the days not out yet. Michael: No, no, no, no, no. You know what? You can't tell us what to do because you are not co-manager anymore. Jim: Okay, I feel like this noise is gonna prevent Pam from being able to listen to her body's signals. Pam: Actually, the distractions are good. I mean, I don't think I'm gonna make it til midnight if I'm just sitting here thinking about it. Michael: Distractions are good! That means conference room, five minutes! No, no--five seconds! Right now, right now! Conference room! Topic--potpourri! Let's go! Michael: Um, I’m sort of a master of distraction. When I was a kid, my mom received compliments left and right from my teachers on how… I was always able to distract others in class. Try to think, what were the first thirteen colonies? Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. [Michael covers his mouth and makes fart noises] [Michael addresses everyone in the conference room] Michael: The purpose for this meeting is to take Pam's mind off of what's going on inside of her body. Andy: Can we do sleight-of-hand tricks? Michael: I will allow that. Andy: Yes! Can anyone do those? Stanley: I'm gonna go look at the Internet. [Stanley and Oscar leave, as Pam has another contraction] Pam: Ow. Okay… Jim: Oh! Oh, alright. That's a good one. Pam: Oh, okay, uh, sorry, guys. Just, um, keep talking. [Dwight looks at his watch, then to Angela] Michael: Okay. Kelly: Oh, my God, Pam, you are a woman warrior. Pam: Oh, thanks, Kelly. Michael: Does anybody have anything? Anything interesting, any hobbies, uh, special skills? Pam: Yes, this is the only time I'm ever going to make this request. Michael: Yeah, Phyl? Phyllis: I can put on lipstick the way Molly Ringwald does in The Breakfast Club. Pam: [shakes her head] Michael: Nope. Nope, I don't think anybody wants to see that. Andy: I can do the “Evolution of Dance” dance. Pam: [nods head in approval, thumbs up] Michael: That sounds good! Do you need some music, or... Okay. Andy: No, actually music would just throw me off. I need complete silence. Okay... [dances] Pam: [Pam begins to clap as Andy dances] Andy: You're clapping. I need complete silence. Totally threw me off, so I'm gonna have to start over. “Evolution of Dance” dance. [Ryan stands up in front of everyone, reading from a book, Kelly looks at him in admiration] Ryan: "You let me in your bed. But now, I sleep alone. Trapped with the forgotten in my detritus home." [Erin stands up in front of everyone, recites racehorse names] Erin: Affirmed. Seattle Slew. Secretariat. Citation. Assault. Count Fleet. Whirlaway. War Admiral. Omaha. Gallant Fox... And... I know this. Uh... The jockey was Johnny Loftus. Sired by Star Shoot. [Angela walks through the warehouse to meet Dwight who types on a typewrite] Angela: Good afternoon. Dwight: Have a seat. Angela: What is this? Dwight: Before we conceive a child, uh, it is important that we bang out a parenting contract. Angela: Of course. Dwight: It's been a long time since we've come down here separately. Angela: You know, I was thinking-- Dwight: Now, then. Let's get to it, shall we? Item one, [speaking into a voice recorder] Child will be breast fed by the mother for exactly six months, then weaned onto a nutrient-rich winter vegetable mash provided by the father, Dwight Schrute, hereafter referred to as Morpheus. Agreed? Angela: Agreed. [everyone is seated in the conference room] Pam: [has another contraction, groans in pain] Michael: Where are we? We have every six minutes, ladies and gentlemen. Another seventy-five contractions, and you are going to be there. Kevin: For the love of God, Pam, do it for ultra-feast! Jim: Okay, you know what? I'm gonna go give, uh, doctor Asmani a quick call. He'd probably know— [whistles] Pam: Jim, please. Happy thoughts here. Happy times. Michael: Yeah, happy times. Come on. Let's have happy times. Jim: Alright. Michael: Jim, as a matter of fact… I have printed out ten ways to induce labor. And I'm thinking we just do the opposite of those things and we can slow down your labor. Erin, read the first one. Erin: Um, stimulate the nipples. Michael: Okay, nobody touch Pam's nipples. Think of Pam's nipples as Toby's grundle. Kevin: Her shirt is touching them. Maybe we should cut holes in her shirt. Meredith: I have a shirt like that in my car. Michael: Okay, yeah, why don't you go get it? Erin: Okay, uh, the second one is walk around. We're already doing the opposite of that. Perfect. Okay, number three, eat spicy foods. Michael: Okay, the opposite of that… Kevin: Stick spicy food up her butt. Jim: Nope, nope, nope, nope. Come on, let's go to the hospital. Pam: Jim-- Jim: Pam, let's go to the hospital right now. Pam: Jim, sweetie, I love you. But you're really distracting me from my distractions. Jim: Mm-hmm. Okay, great. Well, sorry. Pam: Why don't you go do some work? Jim: Great. I will do that. Sorry, Pam, I just feel a little bit frazzled. And you know how very rarely I use that word. Frazzled. Pam: I know. You don't like to be frazzled. Jim: No, I don't. Pam: Okay. Jim: Oh, and by the way, hate that you're helping her with this right now. Totally. [leaves the room] Michael: Ooh, someone's freakin'. Andy: A little frazzled. Michael: I think he is. Jim: I know Pam better than anyone in this office, and obviously she's gone crazy, but everybody wants to say that I'm crazy. But I'm not crazy, she's crazy. I'm not crazy, she's crazy. [Jim reads from various books] Jim: Five to seven minutes. Five to seven minutes. Six minutes. Different, but not really. Five to seven minutes. [Dwight and Angela are in the warehouse] Dwight: [reads from parenting contract] Dwight: Acceptable names include and are limited to: Ebenezer. Angela: Jedediah. Dwight: Jonas. Angela: Jedediah. Dwight: Warf. Angela: No Star Trek names. Dwight: Okay. Fine. Angela: What if it's a girl? Dwight: Irrelevant question. Section 5A, “Child shall be male.” Angela: Hey. Uh-uh. I cannot control that. You can't put that in here. Dwight: Yes, you can. Angela: No. Dwight: It's as simple as keeping the womb extremely warm for two days after sеx, and then extremely cold for five months. Angela: Absolutely not. [Jim sits in his car in the parking lot, Pam approaches] Jim: Hey. Pam: Hey. Jim: Oh… [winds car window down] Pam: I'm not gonna get in the car, because I know if I do, you'll try to drive me to the hospital. Jim: Ah, you know me too well. Pam: Okay, Jim? Jim: Yeah? Pam: Everything is fine. You don't have to worry. Jim: Totally. Pam: Try not to think about it. She's not coming out for a while, okay? Jim: Did you say "she?" Pam: I called the doctor, like, a week ago. I couldn't wait. Oh, God, don't be mad. Jim: Mad? How could I be mad? We're having a little girl. Pam: Mm-hmm. Jim: Wow, we're having a little girl. Pam: [laughs] Jim: Oh, man. Pam: I know. Jim: Woo, alright. Well, I definitely feel better. Pam: Good. Jim: Yeah. Pam: Okay. Jim: Alright. [Pam leans into the car to kiss Jim] Jim: Hey, did you change? Pam: Oh, yeah. My water broke. Jim: Oh. Oh... [Pam enters the office, has another contraction] Pam: Oh… Whoa! Michael: Pam? [rushes to Pam from his office] Pam: Ha. Wow. Michael: Pam! Okay, alright. Okay, it's time--time to go to the hospital. Somebody get Jim, please! Is it midnight yet? Phyllis: No, it's 4:35. Michael: 4:35. Alright, almost made it. Almost made it. Too bad you didn't have sеx like seven and a half hours later. But you had to have the afternoon delight. I understand. Sometimes you have to go for it. Let's go to the hospital, shall we? Pam: No, not yet, Michael. Michael: We can do-- Pam: Oh, wow, it's almost time for ultra-feast! Michael: Oh. Pam: Where's Kevin? Michael: What? You want to eat cat food with Kevin and not go to the hospital? Oscar: That's “Fancy Feast”. “Ultra-feast” is something they made up so they can pig out together in the name of ceremony. Michael: What is October feast? Pam: There is no rush to get to the hospital. I am fine. I'll get there. And if I don't get there, I don't get there. Kevin: Our ultra-feast menu's theme - Hollywood. We have Ratatouille, from Ratatouille, and tandoori chicken, from Born Into Brоthеls. I tried to bake a cake like that District 9 prawn thing, but I--Are you okay? Pam: Mm-hmm. Yes, I'm fine. Um… Kevin: Are you sure? Pam: Yeah. The doctor said it's still considered a minor contraction as long as I can talk through it. Michael: Okay, okay. Jim. I think this feast is over, and it's time to go to the hospital. Jim: Alright. Time to go. Okay. Michael: That's right, let's do this. Jim: Let's give it a shot. Pam: Nope. No, no, that's better. That wasn't even the worst of ‘em--I'm fine. Jim: Hey, come on. Let's go to the hospital. Pam: They're not that bad still, babe. Jim: Pam, Pam, it's time. Let's go to the hospital. Pam: No, it's passing, it's fine. It's okay. Jim: Come on, Michael says we should go now. Michael: Let's go, Pam. Yeah, I think we should head out. Pam: No, it's passing, it's fine. Jim: Pam. Pam: Ah, no, it passed. It's good. Jim: You know what? Let's go. We got to go to the hospital. Pam: Babe, I'm not going. I'm not--It's fine. [Jim, Michael and Kevin try to help her up] Pam: Okay, come on, come on. No! I am not going! I am not going, okay!? I'm not going today. Because I can't do it, I don't think I can do it. Jim: Hey, are you kidding me? Michael: Are you kidding? Jim: If anyone can do this, you can do this. Michael: You can do this. You can do this. Jim: Pam, I'm scared. I'm real scared. Michael: I'm scared, too. Kevin: I'm petrified. Jim: The best news is, we're gonna have a baby today… Michael: Yeah. Jim: A really awesome baby. Michael: We're gonna have a baby. Jim: So, let's have it at the hospital. Michael: Let's do that. Jim: How are we doing on contractions? Michael: Two minutes apart. Jim: Two minutes-- Pam: Oh, God. Oh, no. Jim: Michael, I told you. Michael: It's okay. Jim: No, I told you to warn me at five minutes. Pam: Jim, we waited too long! Michael: I know, I know, I know. It went by too soon. Jim: We waited too long! Two minutes doesn't do us any good. Well, what happened to four and three minutes? Michael: We're okay, Jim! Okay, Pamela. You know what time it is? Pam: I don't want to have my baby here. Michael: You're not going to. You know where you're going? Pam: The hospital. Michael: Yes, you are. And you know what you're gonna have? Pam: A baby. Michael: Yes! We're going to the hospital and we're going to have a baby. [Michael rushes through the office with Pam and Jim] Michael: I got it! I got it! Everybody it's go time! Action stations. Stanley, man the phones. Meredith, please, get bottled water. Erin, call an ambulance, please! Dwight: No, no, no. Ambulances are emergencies only. You call an ambulance, I call the cops. Jim: Alright, we're driving ourselves, actually. Michael: No, Jim, you are in no condition to drive. I will drive you! Check! Got it. Jim: Alright, I have my wallet. Michael: Yes. Jim: Go-bag's in the car… Michael: Go-bag! Where's my go-bag? Where's my go-bag? Jim: Keys--I need my keys! I need my keys! Erin: There's nothing in it. Michael: You are telling me now that there is nothing in it! Okay, great! Oh, hey, hey, um, should I bring a dictionary to the hospital? Oscar: The hospital provides dictionaries, bring a thesaurus! Dwight: Has anyone checked how dilated she is? This is ridiculous! Pam: Dwight, get away! Michael: No, no, no. Dwight, let Jim do that, please. Erin: I didn't know we had a tape measure. Dwight: "We" don't. [shows his initials on the tape measure] Jim: Okay, I can't find my keys! I cannot find my keys! Found 'em. They're here. Dwight, Jim and Michael: Here we go! Phyllis: Good luck! Nick: Good luck, Pam! Michael: Thank you! Wish me luck! Creed: Have fun! [sighs] Meredith: Hey, it's 5:00! [Michael, Dwight, Pam and Jim are on the elevator, waiting for doors to close] Michael: Here we go! Here we go! On our way! [Stanley rushes to hold the doors of the elevator] Stanley: Hold it! Michael: Come on, Stanley! Okay. We're goin’ now! [Toby rushes to catch the elevator] Toby: Oh, one more! Michael: [swats Toby away] No, no, no, no! Out, out! Idiot. [Michael, Dwight, Pam and Jim walk through the parking lot] Michael: Dwight, what is the traffic like? Dwight: Doesn't matter. I'll escort you! [sprints to his car] Michael: Alright. [Dwight quickly reverses out of his park, tires squealing] Dwight: Let's go! Michael: Easy, Dwight! Dwight: [Dwight drives out the parking lot and stops on the road] Michael! Michael: What!? Dwight: Michael! Michael: What? Dwight: This is where I saw that deer last week. Michael: Where? Dwight: Right over by that fence. Michael: By the bushes? Jim: Okay, Michael! Focus! Michael: Okay, go, go, go, go! Dwight: Let's go! Dwight: I love escorting people. In fact, a few years back, I put an ad in the paper starting an escort service. I got a lot of responses… Mostly creeps. Made a few friends. [Michael drives Jim and Pam sit in the back seat, Michael texts on his cell phone] Jim: Alright, here we go! Michael: Okay, just breathe... Jim: You're doing great! She'll be here soon. Michael: She? You found out? Come on, guys. I wanted to be surprised. Pam: Michael! Michael: Yeah? Pam: Stop texting! Jim: Michael, come on! Pam: Put your phone away! Come on. Michael: I'm texting about you, okay!? [Dwight drives, stuck in traffic] Dwight: Ugh, alright. [places a siren on top of his car, a police car sirens in the background] Dwight: Let's move! Fa--What? Police officer: Pull over! Dwight: Oh, you’re kidding me? Police officer: Pull over! [Dwight begins throwing various weapons out of the window] Police officer: You're not allowed to impersonate a police officer! Don't make this difficult, Dwight! [Michael, Pam and Jim drive past Dwight who is getting pulled over by the police officer] Pam: Wait… Wait. My iPod's not in here! Jim: Okay. Pam: It has the birth song on it! Jim: Okay. I know, I know. But my iPod is in the go-bag. We'll be fine. Pam: Jim, I don't want the first thing the baby hears to be the 8 Mile soundtrack. Jim: Okay, so what do you wanna do? Pam: I don't know! Let's go by the house and get it. It's only twenty minutes past the hospital! Jim: Pam. Pam, no! Are you nuts? We're going to the hospital now. Michael: Guys, guys! Stop fighting. Come on. Come on. Do you want your kid to come out a lawyer? [laughs] Right? Okay, you know what? I am all over this. Here we go. Ready? [pulls out cell phone and calls Dwight] [Dwight sits in his car and answers his cell phone, the police officer writes him up in the background] Dwight: Dwight Schrute. Michael: Hello, Dwight. Pam left her iPod at her house. I want you to swing by, pick it up, and bring it to the hospital. We need it yesterday. Dwight: Why didn't you ask me to do it yesterday? I kept IM'ing you how bored I was. Michael: Okay… Pam: Dwight! Go to my house. Get my iPod. I think it's on the kitchen table. Do not touch anything else. The key is under-- Dwight: I don't need a key. Pam: Okay, Dwight, but if you do need a key, just listen it's under the-- Dwight: No, no, don't--don't—don’t tell me. Alalalalalalalalalala lalalalalala alalalalalalalala. Pam: Dwight, just listen! It's underneath--- [Dwight hangs up as the police officer hands him a ticket] [Michael drops Pam and Jim at the office entrance] Michael: Okay. Jim: Wait, you alright? Pam: Yes. Michael: Do you have everything, guys? Jim: Michael, just go park the car. Michael: Okay. Alright. [parks in an ambulance zone] Hospital employee: Sir! Michael: Dunder-Mifflin. It's okay. Hospital employee: You can't park here! Michael: [grunts and throws car keys into the bushes across the street] I just did. [Jim talks to a hospital employee at the administration desk, Pam sits in a wheelchair] Jim: Okay. Great, thanks. Oh, by the way, somebody’s going to be coming through the door right behind us, can you just tell them thanks for us? Hospital employee: Sure. Jim: Alright, thanks. Right through here? Hospital employee: Yep. Jim: Okay. Pam: We didn’t get our full two days. Jim: Yeah, we missed it. Pam: I love you. Jim: I love you, too. [Michael rushes into the lobby] Michael: All right, Halpert? Am I too late? Hospital employee: Sir, they just checked in. The man wanted me to tell you they said, “thanks”. Michael: Okay. And you can tell him, I know he would have done the same thing if Pam had been pregnant with my baby. Hospital employee: Okay. Michael: Okay. Oh. [Michael sits down in the lobby and pulls a t-shirt from his bag and lays it across his chest, shirt reads, “HALPERT BEESLY BIRTH 09-10”] Michael: I drove ‘em in.