Congratulations on Misfiling Your Tax Return!

Today it’s not today. Today it’s two months into the future and you, as one of the few people who files their taxes in February for whatever retarded reason, are going to be in deep shit.

While filling out the interminable forms required by our government in order to properly document which sex workers will take it “in the pooper,” a statistic kept largely for the purpose of competing with Brazil for sex tourism money, you’re going to misfile as double anal capable and be automatically tagged for an audit. When the auditor checks out your butt and sees that nothing larger than a fist has ever been up there he’s going to call foul and you’re going to get slapped with a nice big fine.

Now most people would just pay the fine and get on with their lives, but you don’t make very much as a male prostitute and, as you so eloquently put it, “getting fucked in the ass is my job and I’m not going to let the government do it to me for free.” So you’ll get one of your more militant and closeted clients to help you put together an assault on a highly secure government building which contains the paperwork for your return. The plan is that the two of you break in, replace your paperwork with an edited copy that appropriately labels you as being a single-anal man, and then find somewhere quiet where you can blow him while he closes his eyes because “he ain’t no faggot.”

But just like art school nothing is going to go the way you’d hoped. The local IRS building will be surprisingly well guarded, and you’re going to have kill a lot of rent-a-cops to get into that record room. Then, once you get there it’ll turn out that the records aren’t nearly as organized as you’d thought. They’ll be arranged by social security number, which will make you super uncomfortable. Even though you’ll altering government records you still won’t want to infringe upon the privacy of others.

After a brief moral dilemma your client will tell you to “stop being a god damn fairy about it” and you’ll acquiesce, rifling through the drawers and replacing your tax return with the edited version.

After that the two of you will begin a daring escape which will end with your “buddy” being shot and killed just outside the building. Since he won’t have any ID or any official ties to you you’ll just book it away from him.

This will spell the end of your tax troubles and the beginning your brief, exciting tenure as the gayest arms dealer outside of California.

Congratulations on Misfiling Your Tax Return!