Anya, standing at the cash register of the Magic Box, holds a wad of cash tightly to her chest. "It's my money! I earned it and it's mine! Glorious Capitalism!" she shouts.
"It's income tax Anya – it's the law," Giles calmly explains as he cleans his glasses. "Everyone has to pay it."
"But I have plans for the money already," Anya retorts, "my wedding! Do you have any idea the cleaning bills we'll have to pay for a chapel half full of demons? And then there's Xander's disgusting kin."
"Sitting right here hun, " Xander says, turning around from the nearby table. "The wedding'll be fine so long as you're there, and you're not going to be if you're all Al Capone'd for tax evasion," he says. Standing up and walking to the counter he tells her, "it's like they always say – the two sure things in life are death and taxes."
Anya's eyes light up as she squeezes the money tighter. "So we need to kill the politicians!" she yells.