My IRS Audit Fantasy
I have never suffered an IRS audit (knock on wood), but I was thinking during my walk today about the most satisfying way to handle it. This is my fantasy.
IRS Agent: Hello, Mr. St. Clair. How are you today?
Me: I'm here. 'nuff said.
IRS Agent: I don't see any paper work. Didn't our letter ask you to bring that?
Me: I don't think you understand why I'm here. The criminal gang you work for has been extorting my money for over 30 years. I'm here to offer you an opportunity to make it right. In return, I will allow you to remain breathing when I leave.
When I got my first job out of college, gold was selling for $200/ounce. I made about 80 ounces per year.
Today, gold is selling for over $1,600 dollars an ounce, and I still make about 80 ounces per year.
I've paid about 1/6 of that, or 13 ounces a year, in income tax. Over 30 years, that amounts to 390 ounces of gold. Add 5% compound interest, which is about 75%, and it's a little over 680 ounces. I'll settle for 500, if you deliver it to me within the next two hours. One of those red boxes of US eagles from the US Mint would do nicely. You can probably find a box closer than Philly, but a jet from there should get me my gold in time. I'll pay you one ounce for your time waiting here with me.
How about it?
I doubt I'd finish talking before men with guns arrived in response to his silent alarm, but it's a nice fantasy.
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Beautiful.
Beautiful.
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