Monday March 21st, 2011

The exercise:

Today we write about: the accountant.

Kat and I are taking our tax information to an accountant tomorrow, as I'm finding all the farm stuff rather confusing. Hopefully I can learn a thing or two this year and then I can take care of it from here on out.

Mine:

Brown pants strangle skinny legs.
White short sleeve button-up shirt
Fails to contain bony arms.
Up top: hair the shade of dirt.

I want to turn to my wife,
Say: Let's find someone else, hun.
But that's not really a choice,
Now that he's produced his gun.

4 Comments:

Greg said...

Wow, your Canadian accounts are a seriously tough bunch if they carry guns! I can only imagine what your Inland Revenue is like....
I wasn't sure where the first verse was going, but the second verse made the whole poem for me. Excellent work!
Oh, and good luck with the accountant tomorrow :)

The Accountant
"Why are we in this office, Dave?"
"Don't you ever listen to anything I say, Vince?"
"Not if I can help it Dave. You're usually belittling me."
Dave started to retort, then stopped, just to make a point. Then he wondered if Vince would understand that he was making a point.
"We're here because this is my accountant's office," said Dave. "And I think he's stealing from me."
"So we're stealing from him?"
"Seems fair," said Dave.
"But...,"
"What, Vince?"
"Isn't he going to notice that your next tax return has a number of things on it that are missing from his office?"
"Oh, damn."

Watermark said...

The Accountant

“This balance sheet just won’t balance! I’ve tried everything!”

He looked at the intern thoughtfully, behind his thick glasses, eyebrows raised. Being a mentor was just not fun anymore. He would rather deal with numbers than with people and he really had no idea how to respond to this. And this particular intern just had no clue. Honestly, he wondered at times why he worked for this firm.

The intern looked up at him again pleadingly.

“Alright, let me have a look,” he said with a deep, impatient sigh. But he only needed a moment before he felt a raging bout of sarcasm rise within him. Controlling his frustration, he took off his glasses and proceeded to polish the lenses with the utmost of precision and care. After he was done for a good five minutes and at which point he felt calm enough to deliver his analysis of the situation, the accountant slowly rose from his chair holding the document carefully in his hands and looked at the intern sternly.

“The reason why your balance sheet will not balance,” he paused taking in a deep breath, “is because you are trying to balance a profit and loss statement. This.is.not.a.balance.sheet!”

And with that he placed the document on the desk before a confused intern and walked out of the room.

Heather said...

Marc- You sure do have a thing for arming your characters. So, who is this accountant really?

Greg- Funny!

Watermark- Sadly, I think I know that intern.

--------
A black pencil skirt hugged her waist and creased the bodice of her white blouse as she walked to the desk. As she sat down, a simple silver chain dangled in front of the tan curves that peeked out from just above the next button. In an effort to divert my eyes, I followed the edge of her blouse, counting each button that was left undone: 3. Then came her well defined collar bone, the softness of the lines on her neck, and her beautiful oval face with eyes so deep in color I couldn't help but assume she wore colored contacts. I noted that she wore her hair swept up in what I can only call a sophisticated mess. I wondered how long it had taken her to make it look like that. No matter. She was a vision and I wasn't concerned with the logistics of her striking beauty. Her income level and social life, on the other hand, would be important to the overall scam.

"Mrs. Tainer, I understand you need someone to look over your business forms. Is that correct?" I said.

She blushed and fiddled with her left ring finger. "It's not Misses. And please, call me Laura."

I smiled. This was going to be like taking candy from a baby.

Marc said...

Greg - well, his office was closed today, so we get to meet him tomorrow.

Only Vince and Dave would declare stolen items on their returns :)

Watermark - I was half-expecting that she was trying to literally balance the sheet of paper on a pencil or something :P

Heather - I do, don't I? Hmm. Zee violence, it lurks just below the surface of zee mind, ja?

Sounds like your narrator is a smooth operator. It would make me happy to see the tables turned on him :)