The Walrein
It is what it is.
- Partners
-
Prompt One: Bruxish
Tax Time For Bruxish
On a certain secluded shore on Ula’ula island, a very curious sight could’ve been seen, had any land dweller been around to see it: A pencil was moving through the air seemingly on its own, writing on a clipboard propped up against a rock formation facing the ocean. Folders full of other papers sat beside it. Looking out past the water, one could’ve seen the upper half of a Bruxish peeking above the waves, staring intently at the clipboard as the lure jutting out from her forehead shone with a pulsating pink light.
And, for those who had the misfortune to be listening to this scene - RrrrrRRGg-grrRrGg-RRRRrRgRRRRR! A gnashing, grating, grinding, nails-on-chalkboard sound pierced the air, loud enough that one could barely hear the waves breaking against the shore.
Beneath the waterline, a Corsola who had been enduring this auditory torment for the past half-hour finally had enough. “Aaaargh! What are you making that Tapu-damned screeching noise for?” they yelled at the Bruxish, who was the only other Pokemon to be found within a very broad area.
The noise abated for a moment as the Bruxish briefly dipped beneath the water to respond. “Sorry, Corsola! That’s just the noise my telekinesis makes when I use it. I’m filling out my tax forms! Very important that I get them done today.” And then the noise resumed – RRRRggRrRRGGgrRRRggRrrRgrgRRRR!
“I haven’t heard of any other psychic’s telekinesis making a noise like that!” Corsola protested.
“Well, I’m not just ‘any other psychic’. I’m Bruxish!” she declared. RGRGrrGgRgrrrRrRRRRRR-
Corsola groaned. “Look, can’t you just do this some other time? Taxes aren’t due for another week!”
“Nope! The ‘mon down at the Post Office keep telling me I can’t send anything by priority mail – something to do with my Dazzling ability? So this is the last day I can get my taxes done if I want them to get in on time!”
“Ugh, seriously?”
“Yes, seriously! Trust me, I’m not thrilled about this whole situation either. Do you know what President Solgaleo does to tax evaders, Corsola? He tosses them in an Ultra-Wormhole, and they’re never seen from again! My very life is on the line here!” Bruxish said. RRRRRGRRrrrrRRRrRRrRRRGRRrRR-
“Okay, fine! But you couldn’t you do your taxes somewhere else, then? I don’t know how much longer I can stand listening to that grinding noise! My sanity’s on the line here!” Corsola protested.
“Anywhere else I went would just have more Pokemon who’d complain!” Bruxish shot back. “Couldn’t you just move somewhere else?”
“No! I’m a species of friggin’ coral! I can only move, like, one centimeter an hour!”
Bruxish shook her lure in sympathy. “That must be rough, Corsola! Here, how about you help me with this?” RrrrggGrRr – A page flipped on the clipboard. “Do you know if I can claim unhatched eggs as dependents? That would really simplify things. I’ve got like, a hundred of ‘em.”
“I don’t know, I’ve never done taxes before!” Corsola said.
“Hmmm... do you think it matters if the eggs are unfertilized? I don’t see anything here that specifically says unfertilized eggs wouldn’t count. Mmm, this is a tough one… Maybe I’ll just compromise and put down fifty dependents.” RRRgggRRrrrrGgrrr!
“Okay, now I can fill in line 5C...” RrgggrrrrrGGGRRrrrrrrr-
“And line 6A...” RrrrGRrRRRRRRRRRGgggggrRRRgrRRrgggRrrggrrRRrRrrr-
“Then lines 6B through 8.1A...” RrggGGgGRggRRRgRGRg-rgRGRrrRRrRgRgrggggrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRggRRrRRrRRRRRRrrRRRRrrrrrRrRRRRRRrRgrggRRRRggrrRRRrgrRRrRrrrrrrRRRrRRRRRRrRRRRgrrrrrRRrRRrrRrR!
Corsola squeezed their eyes shut and tried to recall memories of a more pleasant occasion, such as the time that Pyukumuku barfed his intestines all over them.
“Okay, done!” Bruxish declared.
“Finally!” Corsola cried. “I thought I was-”
“With that page, at least! Only ten more to go!” Corsola’s scream went unnoticed by Bruxish amidst the burst of noise accompanying her telekinetic shuffling of papers. “Alright, next page. Let’s see here… ‘For predatory Pokemon only: Attach a form 1096-EAT for every prey Pokemon consumed in the 2020 fiscal year. Sum up the total expected tax burden each Pokemon would’ve paid had you not consumed them from line 12c of each form 1096-EAT and enter the total on line 10-X.’ Ah, what? I have to attach a form for every Pokemon I ate in the past year? That’s gotta be like ten-dozen or so extra forms! This is gonna take forever!”
“No, no, no, no, no...” Corsola moaned.
“Well, guess there’s nothing else for it.” RrrrggRrRrRrrrrr! “First form… hey, maybe this won’t be so bad. I mostly just ate Shellder this year, and they’re like, total deadbeats, am I right? Have you ever seen one doing any economically productive activity before?”
“If I say ‘no’, will that lead to you finishing this any faster?” Corsola asked.
“I mean, they just laze around on the ocean floor all the time, eating plankton or whatever… at least plankton photosynthesize occasionally! That’s useful! Really, the government should be paying me for eating all those Shellder. ...alright, I’m just going to put down ‘0’ for every line here.” RrrrrrRRrrrRrrGrrRGggRRrrrrr-RrrgggRrrrrRRrrrRRrrrRRrrrRrrrrrrRRrrrRrRrrrRRrrRggGGrRRRgRRggRRRRRRRR! “Okay, now to do that just ninety more times...”
A storm, thought Corsola. That was their only chance – for a storm to suddenly brew up and wash Bruxish’s tax papers out to sea, or for a lightning bolt to strike her.
RrrrrRrrgGRRrrrrRGRRRrGrrrRRrRRrrRrRrRRggRRrRRrrRRrrrRRRrRRRRRRRRR-
Or even a lightning bolt striking Corsola would do, at this point-
“Oh, wait, frick! I just remembered! One of the Shellder I killed was a proctologist! It was while they were in the middle of performing an exam. That was an awkward day, let me tell you. Hey, Corsola? How much do you think proctologists make in a year? Not very much, right? Don’t they mostly just stare up people’s butt-holes all day? I could do that!” RRRRrrRrrrRrRrgRrggRrRrrrr- “Think I’ll just put down ‘ten’ for them. Ten dollars a year. Okay, next-”
SPLOOSH! A non-Bruxish-generated sound entered Corsola’s consciousness, and their eyes turned to see the lower half of a large, white-bodied leonine Pokemon swimming towards Bruxish. “Greetings, my lovely serfs!” Solgaleo said. “Or is that 'peons'? I always forget which is the polite one.”
Bruxish’s head-lure unfolded in shock at the legendary Pokemon's sudden tax-session-interrupting appearance, but she quickly regained her composure and replied, “I think it’s ‘citizens’, Mr. President.”
“Right, that one,” Solgaleo said, his noble smile radiating warmth and compassion. “Recently, tax revenue has been falling dramatically even after accounting for everyone I’ve banished to Ultra-Space, so I’ve taken it upon myself to venture amongst the commoners and conduct interviews with everyone my Overwhelmingly-Powerful-But-Always-Benevolently-Applied psychic powers detects as thinking tax-related thoughts.”
“Your powers are as benevolent and overwhelming as always, Mr. President – I was just in the middle of doing my taxes right now!” Bruxish exclaimed.
Solgaleo’s smile intensified to the point where his noble and filled-with-goodwill-for-all-Pokemonkind fangs were clearly visible.“Excellent. Tell me, are you having any… problems with your taxes this year?” he asked.
“What? Problems!? Not at all, Mr. President!” Bruxish said, a slight RgrRrrRr emitting from them as they subconsciously tilted their tax clipboard away from Solgaleo.
“Great! That’s just great, then!” Solgaleo said. “I’ll be off to talk to some of the other peons, now-”
“NO!” Corsola screamed. “THERE ARE PROBLEMS!” Both Bruxish and Solgaleo blinked and turned towards Corsola. “I’ve been listening to that Bruxish fill out her stupid tax forms all day today, making that damned ‘RRRRGRRRR’ sound all the while and I’m at my wits’ end! THE TAXES! TAKE! TOO! DAMNED! LONG! She has to fill out a separate form for every single Pokemon she’s ate in the past year! It’s ridiculous!”
For a moment, there was complete silence as Bruxish’s gaze slowly turned from Corsola to Solgaleo to judge his reaction, fins standing rigid with horror, while said legendary’s face changed from surprise to concern. And then…
“Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Solgaleo bellowed. “You water-dwellers sure don’t need to worry about running out of air when you shout, do you?”
“Er, I guess not. Ha ha ha!” Bruxish said, still looking prepared to swim away at top velocity.
“But you know, that weird talking-rock peon had a good point. It does sound pretty absurd to have to fill out a separate form for every Pokemon you kill! Why, if I had to do that, I’d have to hire another dozen slaves just to keep up with all the paperwork! Or is that ‘wretched-thralls’? Whichever’s the polite one,” Solgaleo said.
“I think it’s ‘workers’, Mr. President,” Bruxish said.
“Right, that one. Anyhoo, I’ll make sure to talk to Congress about making the tax code simpler next time I see them.”
“We have a Congress?”
Solgaleo gave a regal grin. “We have a legion of horrifying Terror-Beasts I summoned from Ultra Space that I occasionally discuss laws with, yes.”
“Sounds great! That would help a lot, Mr. President,” Bruxish replied.
“Of course, of course! Anything for the peons,” Solgaleo said. “Actually, here...” The legendary exercised his powerful telekinesis to lift all of Bruxish’s tax papers into the air, briefly glancing through each in turn. “How about I just eyeball this as you owing, let’s say… five! Five dollars! No need to waste the rest of your day on paperwork!”
“I’m actually completely broke, Mr. President, but I bet that clipboard’s worth about five dollars!” Bruxish said.
“Done!” Solgaleo opened up a little Ultra-Wormhole to shove all of Bruxish’s tax items through.
RAAAAAAAAAAAARAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHhhAAIEEEEEEAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! The piercing, sanity-rending wails of hundreds of elder Ultra-Beasts could be heard from the other side of the portal, sounds that would haunt Corsola to their dying day, sounds that they’d rather have listened to Bruxish fill out taxes for weeks for than hear.
“Great! That sure makes my day a lot easier, Mr. President!” Bruxish said cheerfully as the portal closed.
“No problem! Guess I know who you’ll be voting for next election!” Solgaleo said with a playful wink.
“We have elections?”
“We have mandatory bi-annual loyalty tests, yes!” Solgaleo proclaimed as he turned to wade back towards the shore. “Have a benevolent and overwhelming day, talking rock-thing and headlight-fish!” he called out behind him as he exited the water and departed for other regions of Alola.
“Wow, what a lucky break!” Bruxish said once Solgaleo was safely out of sight, then turned back to face Corsola again. “You know, I really think I owe you one there. If you hadn’t spoken up about how long those taxes were taking me, I could’ve been stuck doing that for hours! Here, let me get something to repay you...”
“It was nothing, really. Could you just promise to do your taxes somewhere else next year, please?” Corsola asked.
But Bruxish had already swam back to the little rock-formation she’d been working at earlier, where she used her telekinesis to pull out a second clipboard that had been wedged into the rocks, along with a bundle of blank tax forms she’d been keeping as spares. “Surprise! I’m going to help you fill out your taxes for this year!” she announced. RRRrgggRrrgggggrrrrr – the grating sound returned to assail Corsola’s aching senses as Bruxish began filling out their name. “Oh, whoops, it’s spelled ‘K-o-r-s-o-l-u-h’, right? Let me fix that-” RrrggrRrrggRRrrrRRrRrrggggRRrrRRRRRRRRRR-
“N-no! Please… please stop...” Corsola begged. “Anything but more of that,” she wailed.
“Come on now, there’s no need to be shy about asking for help, Corsola! I understand filling out your own tax forms must be pretty tough when you don’t have any hands or psychic powers. Actually, oooh, I bet you could get a pretty big tax credit for that!” RrrrrrrRrrRrgggRrrrrRRRrRRrrrR- “I’m just gonna put down that you donated a liver last year, too. That should help. Corals have livers, right?”
“We really don’t-” Corsola started, but was quickly drowned out by more RRRRRrrGGgRRrrrrr-ing.
“Aha, I know! I’ll draw a little flipbook-animation in the corners here to distract the auditors from the fact that, as a coral, you’ve spent pretty much all year doing nothing except killing off economically-useful plankton!”
RrrRRRRRrrGgrrRRRRRrrrrRRRrRGGRRRrRrRRRRRRRrrrrrrRRRRrgGgRrRRrrrr-
“Wow, you’re so lucky you have me to help you with your taxes this year! And, hey, this is actually starting to get pretty fun! Thanks, Corsola! This is the best tax week ever!”
RRRRgRRrrgRRrrrRRRrRRRrRRRr – THE END
Mild swearing, mention of death, temporary wish of self-death
Tax Time For Bruxish
On a certain secluded shore on Ula’ula island, a very curious sight could’ve been seen, had any land dweller been around to see it: A pencil was moving through the air seemingly on its own, writing on a clipboard propped up against a rock formation facing the ocean. Folders full of other papers sat beside it. Looking out past the water, one could’ve seen the upper half of a Bruxish peeking above the waves, staring intently at the clipboard as the lure jutting out from her forehead shone with a pulsating pink light.
And, for those who had the misfortune to be listening to this scene - RrrrrRRGg-grrRrGg-RRRRrRgRRRRR! A gnashing, grating, grinding, nails-on-chalkboard sound pierced the air, loud enough that one could barely hear the waves breaking against the shore.
Beneath the waterline, a Corsola who had been enduring this auditory torment for the past half-hour finally had enough. “Aaaargh! What are you making that Tapu-damned screeching noise for?” they yelled at the Bruxish, who was the only other Pokemon to be found within a very broad area.
The noise abated for a moment as the Bruxish briefly dipped beneath the water to respond. “Sorry, Corsola! That’s just the noise my telekinesis makes when I use it. I’m filling out my tax forms! Very important that I get them done today.” And then the noise resumed – RRRRggRrRRGGgrRRRggRrrRgrgRRRR!
“I haven’t heard of any other psychic’s telekinesis making a noise like that!” Corsola protested.
“Well, I’m not just ‘any other psychic’. I’m Bruxish!” she declared. RGRGrrGgRgrrrRrRRRRRR-
Corsola groaned. “Look, can’t you just do this some other time? Taxes aren’t due for another week!”
“Nope! The ‘mon down at the Post Office keep telling me I can’t send anything by priority mail – something to do with my Dazzling ability? So this is the last day I can get my taxes done if I want them to get in on time!”
“Ugh, seriously?”
“Yes, seriously! Trust me, I’m not thrilled about this whole situation either. Do you know what President Solgaleo does to tax evaders, Corsola? He tosses them in an Ultra-Wormhole, and they’re never seen from again! My very life is on the line here!” Bruxish said. RRRRRGRRrrrrRRRrRRrRRRGRRrRR-
“Okay, fine! But you couldn’t you do your taxes somewhere else, then? I don’t know how much longer I can stand listening to that grinding noise! My sanity’s on the line here!” Corsola protested.
“Anywhere else I went would just have more Pokemon who’d complain!” Bruxish shot back. “Couldn’t you just move somewhere else?”
“No! I’m a species of friggin’ coral! I can only move, like, one centimeter an hour!”
Bruxish shook her lure in sympathy. “That must be rough, Corsola! Here, how about you help me with this?” RrrrggGrRr – A page flipped on the clipboard. “Do you know if I can claim unhatched eggs as dependents? That would really simplify things. I’ve got like, a hundred of ‘em.”
“I don’t know, I’ve never done taxes before!” Corsola said.
“Hmmm... do you think it matters if the eggs are unfertilized? I don’t see anything here that specifically says unfertilized eggs wouldn’t count. Mmm, this is a tough one… Maybe I’ll just compromise and put down fifty dependents.” RRRgggRRrrrrGgrrr!
“Okay, now I can fill in line 5C...” RrgggrrrrrGGGRRrrrrrrr-
“And line 6A...” RrrrGRrRRRRRRRRRGgggggrRRRgrRRrgggRrrggrrRRrRrrr-
“Then lines 6B through 8.1A...” RrggGGgGRggRRRgRGRg-rgRGRrrRRrRgRgrggggrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRggRRrRRrRRRRRRrrRRRRrrrrrRrRRRRRRrRgrggRRRRggrrRRRrgrRRrRrrrrrrRRRrRRRRRRrRRRRgrrrrrRRrRRrrRrR!
Corsola squeezed their eyes shut and tried to recall memories of a more pleasant occasion, such as the time that Pyukumuku barfed his intestines all over them.
“Okay, done!” Bruxish declared.
“Finally!” Corsola cried. “I thought I was-”
“With that page, at least! Only ten more to go!” Corsola’s scream went unnoticed by Bruxish amidst the burst of noise accompanying her telekinetic shuffling of papers. “Alright, next page. Let’s see here… ‘For predatory Pokemon only: Attach a form 1096-EAT for every prey Pokemon consumed in the 2020 fiscal year. Sum up the total expected tax burden each Pokemon would’ve paid had you not consumed them from line 12c of each form 1096-EAT and enter the total on line 10-X.’ Ah, what? I have to attach a form for every Pokemon I ate in the past year? That’s gotta be like ten-dozen or so extra forms! This is gonna take forever!”
“No, no, no, no, no...” Corsola moaned.
“Well, guess there’s nothing else for it.” RrrrggRrRrRrrrrr! “First form… hey, maybe this won’t be so bad. I mostly just ate Shellder this year, and they’re like, total deadbeats, am I right? Have you ever seen one doing any economically productive activity before?”
“If I say ‘no’, will that lead to you finishing this any faster?” Corsola asked.
“I mean, they just laze around on the ocean floor all the time, eating plankton or whatever… at least plankton photosynthesize occasionally! That’s useful! Really, the government should be paying me for eating all those Shellder. ...alright, I’m just going to put down ‘0’ for every line here.” RrrrrrRRrrrRrrGrrRGggRRrrrrr-RrrgggRrrrrRRrrrRRrrrRRrrrRrrrrrrRRrrrRrRrrrRRrrRggGGrRRRgRRggRRRRRRRR! “Okay, now to do that just ninety more times...”
A storm, thought Corsola. That was their only chance – for a storm to suddenly brew up and wash Bruxish’s tax papers out to sea, or for a lightning bolt to strike her.
RrrrrRrrgGRRrrrrRGRRRrGrrrRRrRRrrRrRrRRggRRrRRrrRRrrrRRRrRRRRRRRRR-
Or even a lightning bolt striking Corsola would do, at this point-
“Oh, wait, frick! I just remembered! One of the Shellder I killed was a proctologist! It was while they were in the middle of performing an exam. That was an awkward day, let me tell you. Hey, Corsola? How much do you think proctologists make in a year? Not very much, right? Don’t they mostly just stare up people’s butt-holes all day? I could do that!” RRRRrrRrrrRrRrgRrggRrRrrrr- “Think I’ll just put down ‘ten’ for them. Ten dollars a year. Okay, next-”
SPLOOSH! A non-Bruxish-generated sound entered Corsola’s consciousness, and their eyes turned to see the lower half of a large, white-bodied leonine Pokemon swimming towards Bruxish. “Greetings, my lovely serfs!” Solgaleo said. “Or is that 'peons'? I always forget which is the polite one.”
Bruxish’s head-lure unfolded in shock at the legendary Pokemon's sudden tax-session-interrupting appearance, but she quickly regained her composure and replied, “I think it’s ‘citizens’, Mr. President.”
“Right, that one,” Solgaleo said, his noble smile radiating warmth and compassion. “Recently, tax revenue has been falling dramatically even after accounting for everyone I’ve banished to Ultra-Space, so I’ve taken it upon myself to venture amongst the commoners and conduct interviews with everyone my Overwhelmingly-Powerful-But-Always-Benevolently-Applied psychic powers detects as thinking tax-related thoughts.”
“Your powers are as benevolent and overwhelming as always, Mr. President – I was just in the middle of doing my taxes right now!” Bruxish exclaimed.
Solgaleo’s smile intensified to the point where his noble and filled-with-goodwill-for-all-Pokemonkind fangs were clearly visible.“Excellent. Tell me, are you having any… problems with your taxes this year?” he asked.
“What? Problems!? Not at all, Mr. President!” Bruxish said, a slight RgrRrrRr emitting from them as they subconsciously tilted their tax clipboard away from Solgaleo.
“Great! That’s just great, then!” Solgaleo said. “I’ll be off to talk to some of the other peons, now-”
“NO!” Corsola screamed. “THERE ARE PROBLEMS!” Both Bruxish and Solgaleo blinked and turned towards Corsola. “I’ve been listening to that Bruxish fill out her stupid tax forms all day today, making that damned ‘RRRRGRRRR’ sound all the while and I’m at my wits’ end! THE TAXES! TAKE! TOO! DAMNED! LONG! She has to fill out a separate form for every single Pokemon she’s ate in the past year! It’s ridiculous!”
For a moment, there was complete silence as Bruxish’s gaze slowly turned from Corsola to Solgaleo to judge his reaction, fins standing rigid with horror, while said legendary’s face changed from surprise to concern. And then…
“Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Solgaleo bellowed. “You water-dwellers sure don’t need to worry about running out of air when you shout, do you?”
“Er, I guess not. Ha ha ha!” Bruxish said, still looking prepared to swim away at top velocity.
“But you know, that weird talking-rock peon had a good point. It does sound pretty absurd to have to fill out a separate form for every Pokemon you kill! Why, if I had to do that, I’d have to hire another dozen slaves just to keep up with all the paperwork! Or is that ‘wretched-thralls’? Whichever’s the polite one,” Solgaleo said.
“I think it’s ‘workers’, Mr. President,” Bruxish said.
“Right, that one. Anyhoo, I’ll make sure to talk to Congress about making the tax code simpler next time I see them.”
“We have a Congress?”
Solgaleo gave a regal grin. “We have a legion of horrifying Terror-Beasts I summoned from Ultra Space that I occasionally discuss laws with, yes.”
“Sounds great! That would help a lot, Mr. President,” Bruxish replied.
“Of course, of course! Anything for the peons,” Solgaleo said. “Actually, here...” The legendary exercised his powerful telekinesis to lift all of Bruxish’s tax papers into the air, briefly glancing through each in turn. “How about I just eyeball this as you owing, let’s say… five! Five dollars! No need to waste the rest of your day on paperwork!”
“I’m actually completely broke, Mr. President, but I bet that clipboard’s worth about five dollars!” Bruxish said.
“Done!” Solgaleo opened up a little Ultra-Wormhole to shove all of Bruxish’s tax items through.
RAAAAAAAAAAAARAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHhhAAIEEEEEEAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! The piercing, sanity-rending wails of hundreds of elder Ultra-Beasts could be heard from the other side of the portal, sounds that would haunt Corsola to their dying day, sounds that they’d rather have listened to Bruxish fill out taxes for weeks for than hear.
“Great! That sure makes my day a lot easier, Mr. President!” Bruxish said cheerfully as the portal closed.
“No problem! Guess I know who you’ll be voting for next election!” Solgaleo said with a playful wink.
“We have elections?”
“We have mandatory bi-annual loyalty tests, yes!” Solgaleo proclaimed as he turned to wade back towards the shore. “Have a benevolent and overwhelming day, talking rock-thing and headlight-fish!” he called out behind him as he exited the water and departed for other regions of Alola.
“Wow, what a lucky break!” Bruxish said once Solgaleo was safely out of sight, then turned back to face Corsola again. “You know, I really think I owe you one there. If you hadn’t spoken up about how long those taxes were taking me, I could’ve been stuck doing that for hours! Here, let me get something to repay you...”
“It was nothing, really. Could you just promise to do your taxes somewhere else next year, please?” Corsola asked.
But Bruxish had already swam back to the little rock-formation she’d been working at earlier, where she used her telekinesis to pull out a second clipboard that had been wedged into the rocks, along with a bundle of blank tax forms she’d been keeping as spares. “Surprise! I’m going to help you fill out your taxes for this year!” she announced. RRRrgggRrrgggggrrrrr – the grating sound returned to assail Corsola’s aching senses as Bruxish began filling out their name. “Oh, whoops, it’s spelled ‘K-o-r-s-o-l-u-h’, right? Let me fix that-” RrrggrRrrggRRrrrRRrRrrggggRRrrRRRRRRRRRR-
“N-no! Please… please stop...” Corsola begged. “Anything but more of that,” she wailed.
“Come on now, there’s no need to be shy about asking for help, Corsola! I understand filling out your own tax forms must be pretty tough when you don’t have any hands or psychic powers. Actually, oooh, I bet you could get a pretty big tax credit for that!” RrrrrrrRrrRrgggRrrrrRRRrRRrrrR- “I’m just gonna put down that you donated a liver last year, too. That should help. Corals have livers, right?”
“We really don’t-” Corsola started, but was quickly drowned out by more RRRRRrrGGgRRrrrrr-ing.
“Aha, I know! I’ll draw a little flipbook-animation in the corners here to distract the auditors from the fact that, as a coral, you’ve spent pretty much all year doing nothing except killing off economically-useful plankton!”
RrrRRRRRrrGgrrRRRRRrrrrRRRrRGGRRRrRrRRRRRRRrrrrrrRRRRrgGgRrRRrrrr-
“Wow, you’re so lucky you have me to help you with your taxes this year! And, hey, this is actually starting to get pretty fun! Thanks, Corsola! This is the best tax week ever!”
RRRRgRRrrgRRrrrRRRrRRRrRRRr – THE END
Last edited:
