'The Office' recap: You Can't Handle the Truth

But in our third act, of course, things got tragic, because what would The Office be without the awkward tragedy? And who's more awkwardly tragic than Toby, all excited to bring home one of Dwight's Princess Unicorns for his daughter? "For once," he said, "Daddy's gonna be a hero." Sadly, Darryl bought the last doll, but was willing to make a Flenderson Christmas miracle happen for a cool $400. Also sadly, the last doll was of a different ethnicity than Toby perhaps hoped. ("Something wrong with the doll?" deadpanned Darryl.) Toby also got a pen thrown at his forehead, after Michael asked him for a rehab center and headed out to make a deposit of one sloshed, red-headed, unsuccessful belly-dancer. "NO WAY! NO WAY! NO WAY!" Meredith screamed, when she figured out they weren't going to a bar. "WAIT A MINUTE! WAIT A MINUTE! WAIT A MINUTE!" There was a mad scramble in the parking lot — again, loved the documentary-style filmmaking in this part — before he finally subdued her and dragged her into the lobby. A fine effort, all for naught, as one cannot be forcefully checked into rehab (unless one is a celebrity). But never fear: Michael Scott is no quitter. He's just going to have to find ways to push Meredith to the bottom, so she'll check herself in. "I think I can do it," he said, hopefully. "I did it with Jan."

And then there was the crux of it all — get it? crux? is that more of an Easter joke? Too soon? — as Phyllis pushed Angela one step too far, asking her to go downstairs, get the tree, and put it back up in the de-Moroccanized office. "Shut up," Angela said, refusing to go, then calling Phyllis's bluff, daring her to lose all power by revealing her big secret. Phyllis looked a bit dejected. And then Phyllis dropped the bomb. Angela is sleeping with Dwight. Cut to looks of coworker disbelief on a variety of different levels, not least of which was Angela's face upon having her bluff-call called right back. "Well, don't look so surprised," Dwight said. (Say it with me: GO PHYLLIS!) But the one person who needed to hear the news missed it all, as poor Puke/Ace/Buzz emerged with his beloved sitar for the saddest merry rendition of "Deck the Halls" I think I've ever heard, the last vestiges of an a cappella man's happiness, plucked out slowly upon an instrument that is not native to his very Caucasian culture.

It's your great Christmas cliffhanger, binder clips! What do you think will happen? How much longer can Andy be a cuckold before someone lets something slip — and who'll be the bigmouth who finally tells him? (I'm going with Kelly on this.) Didn't you think — all fire and drunkenness and sitar music aside — that Phyllis planned a pretty festive party? Did I just find it festive because the economy is preventing most of us from having holiday parties this year? How do you think the convertible PT Cruiser holds up in those Pennsylvania winters? Have you ever created a hollow replica of a coworker's desk out of wrapping paper? Do you have a black belt in anything stupid? And if it's not a Princess Unicorn, a watch, or 100 more wishes, what's on your Christmas list for 2008? That's right, I've left that door open. Walk right on through. My horn can pierce the sky!

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