An IRS audit can be a harrowing experience, even for the auditor |
Tom’s steely stare could not penetrate the three-piece gray suit before him. He’d been an IRS auditor for 26 years, and Mr. Johnson was one cool customer. At every turn he had foiled his attempts at disproving his outlandish deductions Mr. Johnson leaned back in his chair, as he alternately twirled a toothpick in his fingers and placed it in his mouth. He was so relaxed Tom was surprised he wasn’t asleep. Tom knew there was just one last deduction. “Mr. Johnson, you have a deduction for gambling losses in the amount of $12,500 which matches exactly your winnings from your W-2G from the horse track.” Mr. Johnson leaned forward and deftly retrieved a large golden envelope filled with betting slips and pushed it across the desk. A wry smile crept across his face. “Ok.” Tom began to sum up the slips with the churning of the adding machine filling the air. Tom stared in disbelief – $12,500. He slumped in his chair, and looked at the last slip in his hand. Mr. Johnson folded his hands behind his head, and floated his eyes toward the ceiling tiles. Suddenly, Tom turned and flipped through a few receipts. “Mr. Johnson, while I don’t deny that these slips do total up. I am disallowing this deduction. The IRS is not stupid.” Mr. Johnson indignantly shot up from his chair, and placed his hands palm down on Tom’s desk. “Why? The proof is right there!” His voice just below boiling. “Well, there are two reasons. First,” Tom slid a receipt between his hands. “this gas receipt places you 150 miles away the morning of your win and about half of your slips are time dated before that. Second, you really should pick up slips from the ground that do not have footprints on them!” 300 words Flash Fiction Piece Must contain: asleep, stupid, boiling |