Here's how I'd end "The Office"

Distance continues to grow between Pam and Jim, both literally and figuratively, until they both amicably decide to separate. Jim stays in Philly and Pam stays in Scranton.

The documentary shows that neither of them are doing well in their respective situations. Jim is depressed and alone, tired of his new bachelor life. Pam hates Scranton. Her mom helps with the kids, but it just isn't right being at Dunder Mifflin.

So it all comes down to the last episode. Having had enough, they both quit theirs jobs without notice. Pam drives home, grabs the girls, and heads toward Philly. Jim walks out of Athlead, heading to Scranton. They just want to be together, no matter where.

Pam's SUV is low on gas. She pulls into the gas station, where oddly enough Jim proposed years before. She recognizes the place as tears well up in her eyes. She turns off the car and waits. Waits for Jim. He doesn't come.

She sighs, gets out, fills up, and gets back in the car. She pulls away and is stopped by another car trying to get to the pump. Of course it's Jim.

We return to the same wide shot in which Jim proposed. They talk feverishly, but we don't hear. They hug and kiss. Jim gets in the drivers seat of the SUV, leans between the seats and kisses his girls. Pam gets in the passenger seat.

They drive off, leaving his car and their past behind.

Epithalamium

I saw her and I knew
My life would never be the same
The way her hair and eyes beckoned
She was one fine dame

So we started off slow
Neither wanting to get hurt
But the coupling was undeniable
Just as trees need the earth

She said yes to my proposal
To adventure as one forever
Then we packed up our lives
Hitting the road of days together

To Amo, To Muncie, To Kissimmee
Our union has seen strange places
From Hoosiers to Floridians
The passing of time in phases

I don't know quite where we're headed
This marriage of mine
Though it doesn't matter
Since I'll have my Audrey by my side

The Florida Fountain

PROLOGUE

Rupert Remington III had never been so sick... and that was saying something. Ever since the blue blooded oil tycoon turned 65 his health had been kept up by machines. Resperators, ventilators, dehydrators. Remington's fortune kept him going, until the morning the machines weren't enough.

“Rupie, sweetie,” Marjorie, his fifth wife, called from the bottom of the marble staircase. “Time for your water aerobics.”

Remington's palatial and well tended estate palatial and well tended was considered by most to be the largest privately owned property in Florida. Remington made sure of it. The only problem with owning a place that massive was when something needed to be said, it wasn't always able to be. You could be alone in the house or just alone in one room and not know the difference. So when Marjorie yelled for Rupert and didn't get a response she wasn't alarmed. She could've called him, but Rupie hated mobiles. So Margie just shrugged, sipped her Mai Tai, and went back to the pool not knowing he was going to need more medical attention than machine's could provide.