Scene opens in a nice little suburban library. A bracing, post-Christmas chill is in the air, the holidays are just over, the ornaments back in their boxes, Christmas trees are headed for their final repose, and for a select few, tax season has begun. It might even be late. In the foreground, we see a reference desk. Behind it is a Deskslave. A middle aged man who does not look entirely comfortable in the library approaches the desk.
MAN. Where's your tax forms at.
DESKSLAVE. We don't have them out yet. We haven't gotten our Federal forms yet. [begins writing on a piece of paper] I'm not sure when we'll get them, but here's our number so you can check back. I bet they will be here in the next few weeks. [hands paper to MAN]
MAN [squinting, ignoring proferred paper]. So, they gonna be out tomorrow?
Curtain.
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