For whatever reason, Phyllis decides to take advantage of her new party planner status and throw a Moroccan themed holiday party.
Angela is insulted by Phyllis' blasphemy and continues to give her dirty looks, knowing full well that she can't do anything about it.
Angela's secret lover, Dwight, is cashing in on the Christmas greed and has managed to swipe up the most popular toy of the year to sell at an insane profit. A Barbie with a unicorn horn is all the rage. Cha. Ching.
Michael shows off his bartending skills by basically throwing a bunch of different kinds of booze into a cup and calling it a masterpiece.
Meredith quickly volunteers to be the guinea pig, getting hammered and setting her hair on fire, only to he hosed down by Dwight.
Everyone decides to stage an intervention. Naturally, she denies that she has a problem, so Michael makes everyone tell her how her drinking has affected them. Kevin actually finds a positive example.
Toby calls an end to the meeting because it's probably not legal, and everyone clears out. Michael isn't giving up, though.
He and Meredith have a nice little chat in his office, and when they emerge it looks like she's finally agreed to go to rehab.
Except he's lied and promised to take her to a new bar. Once she's figured out the ruse, a chase scene ensues and Michael drags her in. Literally.
Back at the office, Toby figures out that the way to his daughter's heart and his ex-wife's anger is through a Princess Unicorn doll.
Too late. It seems Darryl bought the last one. Darryl decides to "pull a Dwight" and sell it to Toby for a large profit, which Toby accepts.
All the while, Phyllis is still torturing Angela. She's a cute lady, but even blondie can't pull off a hair net.
Phyllis crosses the line one too many times and Angela's had enough.
She tells Phyllis to shut her trap and stop bossing her around because Phyllis would never give up her blackmail information.
Only she does. Phyllis tells the whole office that Angela and Dwight are sleeping together, except for Andy who is conveniently practicing "Deck the Halls" on his sitar.
When I was in college I used to get wicked hammered. My nickname was puke. I would chug a fifth of socos, sneak into a frat party, polish off a few people's empties, some brewskies, some Jell-O shots, do some body shots off myself, pass out, wake up the next morning, puke, rally, more soco, head to class. Probably would have gotten expelled if I had let it affect my grades, but I aced all my courses. They called me Ace. It was totally awesome. Got straight B's. They called me Buzz.Andy
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As it turns out, you can't just check someone into rehab against their will. They have to do it voluntarily. They have to hit rock bottom. So I think I know what I need to do at this point. I need to find ways to push Meredith to the bottom. I think I can do it. I did it with Jan.Michael
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