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} Date: February 16, 2001
}
} It was a dark night in the office. Only a single light shown upon the
} drawn face of Sybil, the countenance of Pythia, and the total absence
} of Cassie. Sybil pointed at a well-used piece of paper in front of
} her, and said, for what was apparently the hundredth time, "We can't
} claim that as an expense!"
}
} "Sure we can, Syb. Business write-offs are like rabbits; you come up
} with one, you're sure to find at least ten more buried in hard-to-reach
} areas. Besides, that .44 came in damn handy when I was in a tough spot
} in Siberia."
}
} "In a completely different fiscal year."
}
} "Well, yeah. But benefits are benefits."
}
} "What about the massage? Or the seven gallons of pure hydrogenated
} body oil? Or the seven-week stay in three of Hong Kong's more
} expensive hotels?"
}
} "What? I needed to relax!"
}
} "But we can't claim those as tax write-offs. The IRS will have our
} hide."
}
} "Bah, the IRS. I could fight them off with both my hands tied behind
} my back, and enjoy the experience."
}
} "If we submit this tax form the way you want us to, that may become a
} very real option."
}
} "Trust me, Syb. I've been filing taxes long before I joined up with
} Delphic Research. I know how to avoid an audit. In all this time,
} have I ever lead you wrong?"
}
} "Do sentient weasels ring a bell?"
}
} "Oh, we needed to get the place fumigated anyway."
}
} "Okay, have it your way. But if the IRS come knocking on our door, I'm
} pointing them in your direction."
} -----------
}
} Date: April 16, 2001
}
} *KNOCK*KNOCK*
}
} "Hello? Miss Stodge?"
}
} "It's ... oh, bloody hell, forget it. May I help you?"
}
} "From the IRS I am, miss. Speak with may I you?"
}
} "Our field agent, Pythia DiStephano, handles all our tax needs. Step
} right this way. Oh, Pythia..."
}
} "Yeah, Syb?"
}
} "This man wants to speak with you. From the IRS."
}
} "Oh. Dear."
}
} "Hello, Miss. Afraid don't be, please if you. Answer questions would
} like if you could."
}
} "Er, sure. What's your name?"
}
} "Mr Cant. Questions about form taxes do I have."
}
} "Of course, Mr Cant. I'd be more than happy to go over any of the
} problems you might--"
}
} "Audit this concluded, it is."
}
} "I beg your pardon? But you haven't even--"
}
} "Office one look did I have to see. State of plight obvious financial,
} me to."
}
} "Really."
}
} "Reclaim possessions, we will. Post-haste collection will I agency to
} you."
}
} "Not if I can help it."
}
} "Use to point gun no. All your queue are belong to us."
}
} "I'm afraid not. This is our livelihood."
}
} "Useless resistance is."
}
} "Alright, that's it. It's only the sixteenth; there's no way in hell
} the IRS would have processed our tax forms that quickly. Who are you,
} and who are you working for?"
}
} "Revenue Internal--"
}
} "Enough double-speak, Yoda-boy. I can shoot the eye out of a flea off
} a dog's back at fifty paces, and right now it's aimed right between
} your eyes. I'll promise to aim for the one of the pre-frontal lobes so
} death'll be quick, if you don't start talking."
}
} "Wouldn't you!"
}
} "Oh, I would. Answer me."
}
} "Great and all-powerful is he. Not like if speak do I. Master he is
} of queue. Removed scene you from the does he want."
}
} "The Oracle's behind this?"
}
} "Indeed."
}
} "I don't believe you."
}
} "Incarnations has he. Several you dislike they do. Removal a pity,
} but done can be nothing."
}
} "Made up of many, is he? Dammit, now you've got me doing it!"
}
} "And divided is he. Like you do some of him, others not. But will the
} of many outnumber will the of few. Rules majority."
}
} "I want names."
}
} "Names I have. Price I want, and safet--"
}
} <ZOT>
}
} "Dammit! Hey, Sybil, where do we keep the burn-removal chemicals?
} We've got another failed Orrie agent here!"
}
} You owe the DRI $35,000 in clean-up costs.
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