Mod Spice:

So Weird wrote this based off my prompt! And when I got online to post it up BIG SHOCKER HERE FOLKS! Apparently I'd written this fiction already, last July! (ಠ‿ಠ;)

So If you want to see Spicy's awful version, you can! archiveofourown works/7394641

Chase Young had not paid taxes in centuries.

He had his reasons, of course, the most notable of which being that he was older than the current Chinese government. He'd been on the same mountain since the Sui Dynasty – back then, at least, people knew better than to disturb him for such petty things…like taxes…

Thus, he found himself reluctantly dragging in a certain evil boy genius. In his scheming, he'd (for once) failed to anticipate the government's activities. Not to mention the mess its tax system had become, what the hell? Though Spicer assured him it was much more sophisticated than back in the day, the elder was having a hard time believing it.

The pale nerd had jumped at the chance to help when commanded er, asked to do so, but now balked as he took in the sheer amount of paper he'd agreed to parse through. There was enough to make his own mountain hideout, probably! Nothing he couldn't handle though…right?

[timeskip]

Spicer scrubbed a hand over his face as he sighed. "That's the thing! You're not supposed to hoard large cats – if you try listing them as dependents, they'll send people out here to investigate!"

"Are you implying that I would not be able to scare them off?" The eyebrow Chase raised made it clear the younger was straying into dangerous territory, but both were too tired and frustrated to care at that point.

"I'm implying that government workers are already dead inside, dude. They don't give a shit anymore. Besides, if something were to happen to make them disappear, a search team would be sent out, which means–"

"–more people hanging around my house, yes, I get it. I already have you imbeciles to deal with."

"Hey, this imbecile is helping with taxes, since someone is too high-and-mighty to figure it out himself–"

"That's it!" The sudden shout nearly startled Spicer out of his seat, a whirl of the warlord's signature teleportation magic engulfing them the next moment.

[timeskip]

This had to be karma. Had to be. Why else would he, Jack Spicer, evil extraordinaire, be standing around what was once a small government building as his evil idol screeched at the smoldering wreckage? He's pretty sure half the sounds coming out of Chase's mouth aren't even words anymore, just warped, half-dragon-y noises.

Even with his face buried in his hands – holy fuck , talk about embarrassing, your evil hero throwing a tantrum over taxes – Jack knew they needed to get a move on. The police and fire crew would be there momentarily, if the approaching sirens were any indication. Ah man, his face had to be as red as his hair right then! Wuya would be rolling with laughter once she found out about this…

THE END