Dwight K. Schrute: What are you doing here? I thought I got rid of you?
Jim: Can I just talk to you for one quick second?
Dwight K. Schrute: What, your stylist ran out of 'messy spray'? [others laugh]
Jim: Um, actually it's, it's for your own good. I think maybe we should- [gestures toward hallway]
Dwight K. Schrute: You want to do something for my own good? Turn around, walk out that door, do not stop 'til you get to Scranton, find my cell phone charger, mail it back to me, and then go hell.