Death and . . . : Part 2

I walked to the answering machine as the ninjas silently watched. Again, something they do very well. I pressed the ‘Message’ button and prepared for the worst.

I got it.

“YOU!” boomed a voice from the machine. It was a dark voice, full of malice and venom, the likes of which Sauron had only wished he had. The voice clearly indicated a person who would not only kick a puppy, but would take pleasure in doing so. It was, in short, the voice of the I.R.S.

“AN ERROR HAS BEEN FOUND! YOU WILL CALL THE FOLLOWING NUMBER BETWEEN THE TIME OF 8:00 AM AND 5:00 PM AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! TARRY NOT, THE I.R.S. IS NOT PATIENT!” A number followed. I will not list it, as it is the number of Hell itself and I’m afraid it might wipe my hard drive.

“Wow!” I said, after the beep. “That was a voice.”

“THANK YOU!” boomed the voice.

“Uh, is this part of the recording?”

“NEGATIVE!” said the voice, still emanating from the answering machine.

“Then how are you doing that?”

“DO NOT QUESTION THE WAYS OF THE I.R.S.!”

“Okay,” I said. “I won’t.”

“GOOD! THAT IS ALL!”

The answering machine fell silent. I turned to the assembled ninjas, one of whom seemed to have wet himself. “I guess I’m calling tomorrow.”

“It has been a pleasure knowing you,” said the ninja. “We have already fashioned a haiku in your memory.”

“Really?”

The ninja held up a hand and the others sprang into action. Flutes, biwas, and other instruments were produced and on some invisible signal, they played a haunting tune.


“+3 against us
Many ninjas he did strike
Like the winter, gone.”

I clapped politely.

“VERY NICE!” said the voice from the answering machine.

Tomorrow: The Conclusion (and no more haiku, I promise)