It’s the New Year and you know what that means: time to do my taxes! Tax season isn’t quite as enjoyable as harvest season or slaughter season, but it’s about as much fun as one can have without using a scythe or hatchet. This year, I’m looking forward to a very healthy return. Planning and implementing a diabolical plan has been an expensive ordeal, but since my revenge plot is job-related, it’s given me the opportunity to write off all manner of “business expenses,” such as:

  • A 40″ Daito & 28″ Shoto Samurai Sword Set – early on in the planning, I considered some more direct ways to seek retribution, now I use them as letter openers at work. And if pressed, I will claim that the sword is for committing seppuku if I dishonor my company. What could be more business related than that? And what IRS auditor won’t understand Shinto code of honor?
  • Several thousand boxes of paper – It’s a pretty good deal actually. I buy the paper from myself at cost plus 30%, then write off 40% of my costs. I’m still operating at a pretty significant loss, especially after the expense of building a new paper silo (which I’ll also write off!) to store all the paper I bought from myself, but it helped me destroy Jim in the branch-wide sales contest, and I won the most rocking pen set ever, which I then sold on eBay for a tidy profit of $24.
  • The Executive Stapler and Stapler Remover set – my job provides me with some standard office supplies and while Jim uses his pedestrian stapler, I’m subconsciously sending a message to the entire office with every gold plated staple that I (and not him) am executive material.

There are those who might suggest that I’m taking some liberties with our tax code, but I do everything by the letter of the law. In fact, I’m hoping the Internal Revenue Service audits me. I love the thought of an IRS agent examining all of my receipts and records, poking and prodding through my life, leaving no stone unturned, harassing friends and family, running down every long shot lead, converting every calculation back from base 8 to base 10, only to discover that I’m as clean as a pig in the mud, which is to say very very clean (pigs roll around in mud to keep themselves free of parasites, bugs, and funguses). I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes just how freaking law-abiding of a citizen I am. Then he’ll beg me to date his beautiful daughter, because what kind of IRS agent wouldn’t be impressed with a man who combines the killing prowess of an Orc with the tax-savvy of a fortune 500 comptroller?