Form 1040A, U.S. Individual Income Tax Return, 2000

Mail to:
Department of the Treasury – Internal Revenue Service
Holtsville, NY 00501
inside the abandoned mannequin factory, where no one has been seen since that mysterious and grisly murder,
25 years ago tonight.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

1. Name:
Barry Avrum Lank

2. Total wages for fiscal year 2000:
$33,500

3. You sure about that?
Yeah. What are you getting at?

4. Nothing. What's your filing status?
Single _X_
Married, filing a joint return ___
Married, filing a separate return ___
Married, but still dating. Who are you to judge me? ___

5. List all your dependents:
One house plant, one incredibly life-like case of foot fungus

6. Total wages for fiscal year 2000:
I already told you. $33,500.

7. Sure, sure, anything you say. List all your dependents again:
I just did.

8. List them again, or I'll send you to federal prison. You dance when I say dance, monkey boy.
OK, OK. Still just the house plant and the foot fungus. Jeez.

9. Have you ever loved someone so much it made you cry?
What?

10. You heard me.
That's none of your ... Yes. A long time ago. I don't like talking about it.

11. What are three CDs you would take with you if you were stranded on a desert island?
Why ... All right, I'm pretty sure it would be Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring," Tom Waits' "Rain Dogs" and John Prine's "German Afternoons."

12. Name a friend you wish you could spend more time with:
Look, can't we just talk about money?

13. The IRS now requires that you not only give a reckoning of your income, but also tell us all your hopes and dreams. For example, please turn to your Schedule 2 form and answer the following question: What career did you want when you were 11?
An actor, I think.

14. What ever happened to that?
Didn't seem practical, I guess.

15. So your life didn't turn out the way you thought?
From when I was 11? Nobody's ever does. What do you want out of me?

16. What were your dependents again?
The house plant. The foot fungus.

17. How can you live like that?
Actually, the foot fungus is a pretty good listener ...

18. Your cute remarks aren't going to work here. This is me, the tax form. I've known you for your entire working life. Remember that night 12 years ago when you and I got drunk on King Cobra beer at the parking lot of that Piggly Wiggly in Savannah, and you told me you were going to be the first failed stand-up comic ever to win the Nobel Prize for chemical engineering? You and I have some history here. We have a relationship.
All right. I admit it. The foot fungus isn't even paying attention anymore. And sometimes I think the house plant has been very gradually crawling toward the window and trying to jump out. But I've been meeting new people.

19. Sure.
I have. Like, I joined an improv group in Philadelphia. A chapter of Comedy Sportz.

20. They pay people, don't they?
Well ... yeah, $12.50 for a night of selling tickets. I meant to declare it ...

21. Report to our New York office at 8 a.m. Thursday for a complete audit. And you'll have to fill out a Pennsylvania tax form for the Comedy Sportz income, at an extra cost of $50 if you're doing this through an accountant.
Because I made $12.50?!

22. Dance, monkey boy!
You betrayed me!

23. How could I betray you? I'm just a tax form, remember? Nothing but a harmless tax form! Bah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!