Making Life More Taxing

Random Memorandum™ to Messrs. Henry & Richard Block: Tip top of the  Tax Day morning, gents. The station house formally congratulates you and your stable of certified — which is to say, high-school graduated — number-crunchers for surviving another perilous tax season counseling the single stupidest assemblage of men and women in human history — math-challenged American citizens, haha. We have it on good authority that when the last of the donuts are devoured and the very last of the 1040 Forms are shipped to the Industrial Revenue Service (IRS) at 5 PM (pencils) sharp, your pop-up Preparation H&R Centers will undergo their annual transformation into Party Central, as staid, accounting wallflowers commence to tapping the domestic beer kegs, spiking the punch bowl, kicking off their heels, dropping their drawers and photocopying their bare derrieres with "wreck less" abandon. Which begs the question: What happens after bloody April 15th, after the last of the paperwork is filed and customers are no longer lined at your door? One needn't be an associate-degreed taxation authority to surmise that when operators hang "Gone Fishin'" signs on stripped mall doors, cash-flow spigots are monkey-wrenched shut until next year. Many months of squandered income-generation doesn’t sound like a business plan to Yours Truly Dooley™, so allow me to offer a suggestion: If the H&R Block brothers were to seamlessly transition from tax-ation to tax-idermy experts, your coffers would be filled year ‘round! Think of it, lads. You’ll still be in the “tax” business, so you won't be "watering down the brand,” as the marketing dimwits would have it. But rather than stuffing envelopes, you’ll be stuffing animals. Whether it’s a dead doggie, a birdie that flew into the plate glass or the weekend hunting kill, taxidermy will breath new life into the deceased and into the H&R Block business! I await your response to my query promptly on the 16th of April. Bravo and Brilliantine, Citizen Numerologists!