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Woolen_Bat_Monkey

Adopted son of Envy/Current owner of LuoirM nose
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Jun 20, 2023
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Tempokai

Overworked One
Joined
Nov 16, 2021
Messages
595
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Ah, the timeless tale of man versus the tax collector, a saga as old as civilization itself. But this time, with a twist so absurd, it could only come from the depths of bureaucratic desperation or perhaps a very imaginative tax collector's fever dream. Let's delve into the curious case of John Doe, a man so fiercely resistant to parting with his hard-earned money, he’d openly challenge the IRS in a manner most brash. Little did he know, the IRS had recently upgraded their arsenal with a weapon so devastatingly cute and surreal, even the staunchest of tax evaders stood no chance.

Our tale begins on a stormy night, lightning cracking like the whip of the gods, as if foreshadowing the cosmic joke about to be played on John. With a beer in one hand and his other fist raised defiantly to the stormy skies, he declared, "I don't care who the IRS sends, I'm not paying taxes!" The gods, it seemed, or at least the IRS, were listening.

The next morning, as the sun attempted to peer through the curtains of John's modest living room, there was a knock at the door. Expecting the usual grim-faced IRS agent, John prepared his arsenal of excuses and half-baked arguments about tax evasion being a form of civil disobedience. But when he swung open the door, there stood no ordinary agent, but a creature so bewildering, John questioned if he was still adrift in the sea of his hangover.

Before him stood an IRS agent unlike any other: an anime catgirl, complete with oversized sparkling eyes, cat ears, and a tail swaying with an almost hypnotic rhythm. She wore an official IRS badge that somehow seemed out of place amidst her colorful and otherworldly appearance.

"Good morning, Mr. Doe. Nyaa~! I'm here on behalf of the IRS. It seems you've been a naughty boy avoiding your taxes," she said, her voice a curious blend of authoritative and inexplicably cheerful. John, whose brain was doing mental gymnastics trying to comprehend the scene before him, could only gape in astonishment. Was this a prank? Had the world gone mad? Or, more plausibly, had he finally lost the plot himself?

"Um, come again?" was all John managed to stammer out, his usual bravado evaporating like a puddle on a hot day.

The catgirl agent, undeterred by his confusion, pushed on with the persistence of a pop-up ad that refuses to be closed. "Nyaa~, Mr. Doe, avoiding taxes is a very serious matter. But don't worry! I'm here to help you understand the importance of your contributions to society and ensure you fulfill your civic duty! Nyaa~!" Her tail flicked with an unsettling enthusiasm.

John, now convinced he was either dreaming or partaking in a very elaborate hidden camera show, decided to play along. "And if I refuse?" he asked, a smirk beginning to form at the absurdity of negotiating with what seemed to be a figment of pop culture gone rogue.

The catgirl's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, John saw a flicker of something less cutesy and more... ominous. "Oh, Mr. Doe, you wouldn't want to find out. Let's just say, the IRS has its ways. Nyaa~." The sing-songy threat, coming from such an incongruous figure, was both hilarious and deeply unsettling.

As the conversation unfolded, with the catgirl agent explaining tax codes and the social contract with an enthusiasm most reserve for their hobbies, John found himself inexplicably capitulating. There was something about being lectured on fiscal responsibility by a creature that defied reality that made resistance seem... pointless.

In the end, John, a man once steadfast in his tax evasion ways, found himself sitting at his dining table, surrounded by forms, receipts, and a surprisingly comprehensive pamphlet titled "Nyaa~ Your Way to Tax Compliance!" courtesy of his newfound IRS advisor. The catgirl, now in full-on tax consultant mode, guided him through the labyrinthine tax code with a patience that was almost otherworldly.

"See, Mr. Doe, when you contribute your fair share, you're helping fund public services that benefit us all, nyaa~," she explained, pointing to a graph that depicted a surprisingly detailed breakdown of tax allocations. John, who had never considered the impact of his financial contributions beyond his own bank account, found himself nodding along, engrossed in a subject he once found drier than a desert.

The absurdity of the situation reached its peak when the catgirl pulled out a calculator and began crunching numbers with a speed and accuracy that left John both impressed and slightly intimidated. "According to my calculations, nyaa~, you're eligible for several deductions you weren't aware of. Let's make sure you get every penny you're entitled to!"

By the time the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room now cluttered with the detritus of their tax preparation marathon, John had completed his tax returns for the first time in years. The catgirl, her mission accomplished, stood up, tail swaying contentedly.

"Remember, Mr. Doe, the IRS is always here to help, in ways you might not expect. Nyaa~! Don't hesitate to reach out if you have any more questions or need assistance in the future. And remember, tax evasion is no joke!"

With a final cheerful wave, she vanished into thin air, leaving behind only the faintest scent of cherry blossoms and bureaucracy. John, now alone, stared at the spot where the most bizarre day of his life had unfolded. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer absurdity of it all. The IRS employing anime catgirls to enforce tax compliance? Reality indeed had a sense of humor.

As he mailed his completed tax returns the following day, John couldn't shake the feeling that the world was a far stranger place than he had ever imagined. And somewhere, deep down, he couldn't help but hope that next year, he might just get a visit from a dragon or perhaps a lamia. After all, if the IRS had a catgirl agent, who's to say what other characters they had in their employ?

And so, our tale concludes with the image of a man, once a staunch tax evader, now a dutiful taxpayer, forever changed by an encounter so absurd, it could only be believed because, frankly, who could make up something as ludicrous as this? In the end, it seems, even the most bizarre methods can lead to compliance, proving once again that reality is indeed stranger than fiction.
 
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