Title: Taxes
Author: AKA Anonymous
Category: Humor, Songfic
Warnings: Script style, calculator destruction, major OOC, a bit of character bashing, maybe? Do not try to follow these instructions if you value your sanity…
Disclaimer: AKA Anonymous doesn't own Gundam Wing or the choral song 'Taxes.' She couldn't afford them even if she didn't have to do taxes.
#blah#--lyrics
/blah/--italics
*blah*--action
~*~*~*~*~
#Congratulations! May I have a word with you?#
Narrator: It's a beautiful spring day, the flowers are flowering, the buds are budding, the bees are beeing, the calculators are calculating! (1) Ah yes, it's the time of year for new life, new opportunities, and—
*CRASH*
Narrator: *sigh*--taxes.
#I'm from the….I.R.S!#
*Duo sprints into the first floor den to find Heero standing triumphantly over a smashed calculator.*
D: Heero, are you okay?
H: *Smiling contently* Yeah, I think I'm getting the hang of this. *Sweeps the broken chunks of metal and plastic out of his way with a foot*
D: Oookay. /What/ are you doing?
H: Taxes. Zechs told me about them.
D: Taxes? Zechs, the guy who planned his revenge for his family over ten years? The one who hates you with a fiery passion? *Mutters to himself* I thought he'd be more subtle.
H: You think it's his way of getting back at me for the whole 'I'm gonna kill you' thing? *Picks up several papers of scribbled notes* I think you may have a point, but J taught me how to calculate the fuel ratios of every mobile suit, carrier plane and shuttle craft known to man /in my head/, I can certainly do a little paperwork.
D: *Places a commiserating hand on Heero's shoulder* Heero, Dr. J was a mad scientist bent on revenge—the government is a totally different ball game.
H: *Shrugs* How hard can it be? Normal people do it every year.
D: Normal people haven't spent more than half their lives in seclusion. You're a Gundam pilot, not an accountant; I recommend getting one.
H: *Returns to glaring at the stacks of papers* Hn.
D: Look, why don't you talk to Quatre? He's good at these things.
H: Quatre does taxes? Doesn't he /own/ a couple of firms that could do it for him?
D: *Shrugs* You know Quatre—if there's a hard way of doing something, that's his way!
**A few hours later**
H: *Stumbles in, practically bent over with arms of papers* Quatre? What's a RD-50? (2)
Q: Uh, *Eyes the moving/talking stack of papers* it's the form that backs up the referral of your DR-123 form. (3) Why?
H: *Throws his work down* I'm doing taxes.
Q: Uh huh. Need some help?
H: …maybe a little.
Q: Hey! No problem! It's really not that hard, as long as you don't tick off the I.R.S.
H: Iris?
Q: I.R.S.—they're kinda of the…'Colonel Une' of the government agencies.
H: Schizophrenic and psychopathic?
Q: No, just brutally efficient in the cruelest way possible.
H: *Nods slowly* Oh. So where do we start?
Q: *Digs through the piles or forms, grabbing a simple looking one and holding it out with a smile* It's easy! Start here-- *Indicates the front page* --and follow the instructions! *releases the attached forms which fan out for several feet*
H: *Eyes bulge* What the?!
Q: *Hands Heero a pad of paper and a pen* Just write down what I tell you, okay? *Turns away before Heero can answer*
#Take forty-two percent of the amount you made
and divide the first two figures by your age;#
H: *Protests* But I don't know my age!
Q: *Ignores Heero*
#take a third of a percent of your deductions
and subtract form that the square of the minimum wage;#
H: *Scrambles for a calculator, juggling several forms and frantically motioning for the other boy to slow down.*
Q: #take half of the remainder and apply it to your debts#
H: Half—sum—debts?! *Throws his hands up in desperation*
Q: #and write on the line below the line
where you have listed all your pets#
H: *Sarcastically* Does Duo count? *Searches for the right forms*
Q: #Now add it all together and follow the instructions
on the top of the thirtieth page#
H: This only has 28 pages! K'so!
Q: *Punches several buttons on his calculator and shows Heero the number*
#And I think you'll find, that when you're done
that you will owe most of what you've won.# (4)
H: *Looks disgusted at the number, but looks at Quatre hopefully* Is it over? Can I go now?
Q: *Ignores Heero's pleading and pulls a new set of forms out of his desk*
#You think you're through, but just you wait
you are not through: you still have to pay the state!#
H: *Glares* The WHAT?! I live in the /colonies/!
Q: *Throws new papers at Heero while ignoring the sharp Glares of Death*
#Take forty-two percent of the amount you made#
H: Does that include what I stole from OZ?
Q: #and divide the first two figures by your age#
H: *Grumbles* I don't think any records of my birth exist. Where's the form for THAT.
Q: #take a third of a percent of your deductions
and subtract from that the square of the minimum wage;#
H: Who the hell thought up these things anyway? *Eyes flash dangerously* You're not making this up are you, Quatre?
Q: *Continues to ignore Heero as he shuffles papers like playing cards*
#take half of the remainder and apply
it to the sum of all your debts#
H: *Mutters* I thought I erased all my debts….oops.
Q: #and write it on the line below the line
where you have listed all your pets#
H: Duo definitely counts: he's loud, always eats my food and leaves hair all over the place.
Q: #now add it all together and follow the instructions
on the top of the thirtieth page#
H: I still haven't found the *first* page 30!
Q: *enters more calculations and writes down the amount*
#and I think you'll find, by the time you're done#
H: *Groans* Just tell me and get it over with!
Q: #that you will owe most of what you've won!#
H: Gah! I don't care! Take the damn money! *Turns to leave*
Q: #You think you're through and that's a pity#
H: *Stops in his tracks, twitching*
Q: #you are not through: you still have to pay the city!#
H: *Grips his head in pain* Must resist urge to destroy! *Passes out*
**Hours Later**
D: Heero, man, are you okay?
H: Ugh, yeah, just had a bad dream.
*Quatre pops into view, smiling cheerfully*
Q: Don't worry, Heero! I finished most of your paperwork while you were out cold! *Flashes victory sign*
H: *Pales* Pa-paperwork?
Q: #Well now you're through, don't look so glum
it's no surprise that you feel numb!# *Gives Heero his calculations*
H: But—but I don't have that much money!!
Q: #They've walked away with all of your moo-la#
D: That's the way it goes, Heero. There's only two things in this world you can't escape: death and taxes. #And there is really not a heckuva lot that you can do-wah!#
H: *Slightly dazed* We should have sent these Iris guys to Romefellar…less bloodshed…
D: Oh, come on! It's not that bad.
H: *Continues to mumble* …I could have taken out the whole evil lot in one blow…
~*~*~*~*~
The End…thank God.
1—The first few lines are from 'Uncle Torval's (sp?) Bedtime Stories' from Seattle's King 5 radio show Stan Borsen (sp?)
2 & 3—Made up forms. You gotta figure it's only going to get more complicated when you live in space.
4—I had to fiddle with this line a little. The original is 'that you will owe *me* most of what you've won.' The tenors have this really funny 'Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha,' but that wouldn't fit either.
So there's my humor piece for the month! I hope my muse's angst persona hasn't been totally devastated. Feedback is always welcome! Theanonymous12000@yahoo.com
Author: AKA Anonymous
Category: Humor, Songfic
Warnings: Script style, calculator destruction, major OOC, a bit of character bashing, maybe? Do not try to follow these instructions if you value your sanity…
Disclaimer: AKA Anonymous doesn't own Gundam Wing or the choral song 'Taxes.' She couldn't afford them even if she didn't have to do taxes.
#blah#--lyrics
/blah/--italics
*blah*--action
~*~*~*~*~
#Congratulations! May I have a word with you?#
Narrator: It's a beautiful spring day, the flowers are flowering, the buds are budding, the bees are beeing, the calculators are calculating! (1) Ah yes, it's the time of year for new life, new opportunities, and—
*CRASH*
Narrator: *sigh*--taxes.
#I'm from the….I.R.S!#
*Duo sprints into the first floor den to find Heero standing triumphantly over a smashed calculator.*
D: Heero, are you okay?
H: *Smiling contently* Yeah, I think I'm getting the hang of this. *Sweeps the broken chunks of metal and plastic out of his way with a foot*
D: Oookay. /What/ are you doing?
H: Taxes. Zechs told me about them.
D: Taxes? Zechs, the guy who planned his revenge for his family over ten years? The one who hates you with a fiery passion? *Mutters to himself* I thought he'd be more subtle.
H: You think it's his way of getting back at me for the whole 'I'm gonna kill you' thing? *Picks up several papers of scribbled notes* I think you may have a point, but J taught me how to calculate the fuel ratios of every mobile suit, carrier plane and shuttle craft known to man /in my head/, I can certainly do a little paperwork.
D: *Places a commiserating hand on Heero's shoulder* Heero, Dr. J was a mad scientist bent on revenge—the government is a totally different ball game.
H: *Shrugs* How hard can it be? Normal people do it every year.
D: Normal people haven't spent more than half their lives in seclusion. You're a Gundam pilot, not an accountant; I recommend getting one.
H: *Returns to glaring at the stacks of papers* Hn.
D: Look, why don't you talk to Quatre? He's good at these things.
H: Quatre does taxes? Doesn't he /own/ a couple of firms that could do it for him?
D: *Shrugs* You know Quatre—if there's a hard way of doing something, that's his way!
**A few hours later**
H: *Stumbles in, practically bent over with arms of papers* Quatre? What's a RD-50? (2)
Q: Uh, *Eyes the moving/talking stack of papers* it's the form that backs up the referral of your DR-123 form. (3) Why?
H: *Throws his work down* I'm doing taxes.
Q: Uh huh. Need some help?
H: …maybe a little.
Q: Hey! No problem! It's really not that hard, as long as you don't tick off the I.R.S.
H: Iris?
Q: I.R.S.—they're kinda of the…'Colonel Une' of the government agencies.
H: Schizophrenic and psychopathic?
Q: No, just brutally efficient in the cruelest way possible.
H: *Nods slowly* Oh. So where do we start?
Q: *Digs through the piles or forms, grabbing a simple looking one and holding it out with a smile* It's easy! Start here-- *Indicates the front page* --and follow the instructions! *releases the attached forms which fan out for several feet*
H: *Eyes bulge* What the?!
Q: *Hands Heero a pad of paper and a pen* Just write down what I tell you, okay? *Turns away before Heero can answer*
#Take forty-two percent of the amount you made
and divide the first two figures by your age;#
H: *Protests* But I don't know my age!
Q: *Ignores Heero*
#take a third of a percent of your deductions
and subtract form that the square of the minimum wage;#
H: *Scrambles for a calculator, juggling several forms and frantically motioning for the other boy to slow down.*
Q: #take half of the remainder and apply it to your debts#
H: Half—sum—debts?! *Throws his hands up in desperation*
Q: #and write on the line below the line
where you have listed all your pets#
H: *Sarcastically* Does Duo count? *Searches for the right forms*
Q: #Now add it all together and follow the instructions
on the top of the thirtieth page#
H: This only has 28 pages! K'so!
Q: *Punches several buttons on his calculator and shows Heero the number*
#And I think you'll find, that when you're done
that you will owe most of what you've won.# (4)
H: *Looks disgusted at the number, but looks at Quatre hopefully* Is it over? Can I go now?
Q: *Ignores Heero's pleading and pulls a new set of forms out of his desk*
#You think you're through, but just you wait
you are not through: you still have to pay the state!#
H: *Glares* The WHAT?! I live in the /colonies/!
Q: *Throws new papers at Heero while ignoring the sharp Glares of Death*
#Take forty-two percent of the amount you made#
H: Does that include what I stole from OZ?
Q: #and divide the first two figures by your age#
H: *Grumbles* I don't think any records of my birth exist. Where's the form for THAT.
Q: #take a third of a percent of your deductions
and subtract from that the square of the minimum wage;#
H: Who the hell thought up these things anyway? *Eyes flash dangerously* You're not making this up are you, Quatre?
Q: *Continues to ignore Heero as he shuffles papers like playing cards*
#take half of the remainder and apply
it to the sum of all your debts#
H: *Mutters* I thought I erased all my debts….oops.
Q: #and write it on the line below the line
where you have listed all your pets#
H: Duo definitely counts: he's loud, always eats my food and leaves hair all over the place.
Q: #now add it all together and follow the instructions
on the top of the thirtieth page#
H: I still haven't found the *first* page 30!
Q: *enters more calculations and writes down the amount*
#and I think you'll find, by the time you're done#
H: *Groans* Just tell me and get it over with!
Q: #that you will owe most of what you've won!#
H: Gah! I don't care! Take the damn money! *Turns to leave*
Q: #You think you're through and that's a pity#
H: *Stops in his tracks, twitching*
Q: #you are not through: you still have to pay the city!#
H: *Grips his head in pain* Must resist urge to destroy! *Passes out*
**Hours Later**
D: Heero, man, are you okay?
H: Ugh, yeah, just had a bad dream.
*Quatre pops into view, smiling cheerfully*
Q: Don't worry, Heero! I finished most of your paperwork while you were out cold! *Flashes victory sign*
H: *Pales* Pa-paperwork?
Q: #Well now you're through, don't look so glum
it's no surprise that you feel numb!# *Gives Heero his calculations*
H: But—but I don't have that much money!!
Q: #They've walked away with all of your moo-la#
D: That's the way it goes, Heero. There's only two things in this world you can't escape: death and taxes. #And there is really not a heckuva lot that you can do-wah!#
H: *Slightly dazed* We should have sent these Iris guys to Romefellar…less bloodshed…
D: Oh, come on! It's not that bad.
H: *Continues to mumble* …I could have taken out the whole evil lot in one blow…
~*~*~*~*~
The End…thank God.
1—The first few lines are from 'Uncle Torval's (sp?) Bedtime Stories' from Seattle's King 5 radio show Stan Borsen (sp?)
2 & 3—Made up forms. You gotta figure it's only going to get more complicated when you live in space.
4—I had to fiddle with this line a little. The original is 'that you will owe *me* most of what you've won.' The tenors have this really funny 'Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha,' but that wouldn't fit either.
So there's my humor piece for the month! I hope my muse's angst persona hasn't been totally devastated. Feedback is always welcome! Theanonymous12000@yahoo.com