Michael Scott: Hi. Any messages?
Erin: You're soaking wet.
Michael Scott: Uh, well, Jim and I got caught in a little flash rain, flash winds, flash lightning.
Phyllis: Wow. Sounds scary.
Michael Scott: It was. It was. And then in an instant it wasn't.
Angela: Why isn't Jim wet?
Jim: I outran it.
Meredith: I don't think it rained. My hip would be throbbing.
Michael Scott: It rained.
Dwight K. Schrute: Michael, can I get you something? A towel? Some cocoa?
Michael Scott: Nothing. Cocoa.