Ever since seeing John Krasinski in A Quiet Place several weeks ago (the hell with timely writing!), I’ve been obsessed with the thought of other actors from The Office existing in its world and, specifically, how long their characters would take to die. Would the bumbling Michael Scott be done in by an untimely “that’s what she said?” Will the stench of Kevin Malone’s feet doom him or save him? Presented for your consideration…A Quiet Office.
This is Kelly in a world where talking means death. You do that math.
Another no-brainer. Kevin ruined an office-wide silent streak by biting into a candy bar and loudly exclaiming, “oh, yeah!” (“Lotto”). The big man would go down harder than a pot of his famous chili. Did you know the trick is to undercook the onions?
A child of privilege who could resist breaking the silence with his a cappella for five minutes, tops. There are so many songs Andy could die singing: “Zombie,” “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” something from Sweeney Todd. Rest assured—the Nard Dog will quickly learn to play dead (that was awful wordplay, and I apologize).
Darryl is black and this is a horror film. I’m sorry. My hands are tied.
Stanley’s fate is the same as Darryl’s, but not because I’m lazy enough to rely on a stereotype for cheap laughs twice. No, Stanley is just… old. And cranky. And weak. Really, if the monsters don’t get him, will it be his diabetes? A heart attack? To quote the man himself, “I have swollen ankles. I’m constantly hungry… do you think I don’t need to know the fastest way to the hospital?” (“Crime Aid”). You might not get your sugar-free cookie… or your sugar cookie… but you’ll get that (eternal) nap, big guy :’(
While Dwight has displayed self-preservation skills in the past (“Survivor Man”), he’s also displayed a foolhardy nature (the forklift accident from “Lotto” springs to mind). Dwight, in a move to prove Jim’s assertion that sound kills is incorrect, would be swiftly dispatched after loudly biting into a crunchy beet.
Angela would be fine if not for her cats, but they would go down the instant they meowed, pawed around their litter box, or even ate dry food. And, as we see when Sparkles shuffles off this mortal coil (“Fun Run”), the loss of a cat is not something Angela suffers in stoic silence.
If you think Michael Scott wouldn’t resort to tying a line of tin cans to the limbs of a sleeping Toby and then startling him awake, I have to ask what show you were watching. Taking down the silent killer because he broke the silence? The irony would be too delicious to pass up.
Oscar’s anal-retentive nature would no doubt be his downfall. I could see the smug, gay Mexican (“China”) making a go of it… until the incorrect sign language of a fellow survivor drives him into a vocal outburst. RIP, smug, gay Mexican.
Ryan is a schemer and a survivor, but he’s not incredibly bright. I think he would do fine… until an inadvertent spam text triggered a WUPHF, setting off all of his still-charged electronic devices and sealing his fate.
Meredith has weathered children, a hysterectomy, alcoholism, lighting herself on fire (“Moroccan Christmas”) and has even sold her body for steak coupons (“Business Ethics”). If you think she wouldn’t survive—nay, thrive—in a world where she can drink in quiet peace, you’re dead wrong.
Phyllis has exhibited the tenacity necessary to survive in a world gone mad. Do you know how she bagged Bob Vance (of Vance Refrigeration)? She waited for Bob everyday for two weeks wearing nothing but kitty-cat ears. On the last day Bob came in wearing only a doggy nose (“Search Committee”).
Yes, Michael Scott is an idiot. But we’ve seen a world where there is no Michael Scott: They’re called seasons 8 and 9. You wanna live in those? Didn’t think so. Scott survives.
This is a couple that wordlessly communicated their love for each other over the span of years. On top of that, they taught themselves morse code (“The Cover-Up”) and have shown an ability to stay silent for long swaths of time (“Drug Testing,” A Quiet Place). P.S. – This is pre-Peepa Jim and Pam. The ones we fell in love with. So no kids to slow them down.
Creed has shown himself time and time again to be ruthless. He convinces Michael to fire Devon instead of him, (“Halloween”), has probably murdered multiple times (flees the office to avoid a mock murder investigation he believes to be real in “Murder,” is seen covered in blood in “Here Comes Trebble”), and you don’t want to know what he did to the last guy who stole from him. On top of that, he can live off the land, his mung bean farming skills on full display in “Conflict Resolution.” Hell, Creed might thrive in the anarchic wasteland of A Quiet Place. Let’s do this!