COPY OF LETTER FROM A NZ GENTLEMAN IN REPLY TO AN INCOME TAX FINAL DEMAND.
Dear Sir,
Your superheated letter arrived this morning in an open envelope with a 5cent stamp on it and it would have given the boy & myself much pleasure had it not revived in us a melancholy reflection of what has gone before.
You say you thought the account would have been settled long ago and could not understand why it hadn't, well here is the reason.
In 1974 I brought a saw mill on credit, in 1975 I brought a team of horses, 2 ponies, a timber wagon, a double barrel shotgun, & 2 razor back pigs, all on credit.
In 1976 the bloody mill was burned to the ground leaving not a damn thing. One of my ponies died and I loan the other to a stupid bastard who starved the poor bugger to death. Then I joined the church.
In 1977 my father died and my brothers were hanged for raping a pensioner.
A tramp seduced my daughter & I had to pay the bastard $50 to stop him becoming one of my relations.
In 1978 my boy got the mumps which spread to his balls and the poor lad had to be castrated to save his life. Later I went fishing and the rotten boat overturned, drowning 2 of my lads neither being the one who was castrated.
In 1979 my wife ran away with a sheep shearer who left me with twins as a souvenir, then I had to have a house cleaner so I married her to keep down expenses, but had a hell of a job to make her pregnant. I went to the doctor and he advised me to create some excitment at the crucial moment. That night I took my shotgun to bed with me and at the time I thought was right I leaned out of bed and fired the gun through the window, the wife shit the bed, I ruptured myself and the next morning I found I had shot my best cow.
In 1980 someone cut the nuts off my prize bull, I was buggered and took to drink, I didn't stop till all I had left was a watch and a weak bladder. Winding the watch & running for a piss kept me busy for a time. After a year I took heart again & bought on credit a manure spreader, a reaper, and a binder and a car. My wife got VD from a travelling salesman and my son died from wiping his arse on an infected rabbit skin.
It supprises me very much that you say you will cause trouble if I don't pay up. If you can think of anything I've missed I should like to know about it.
Trying to get money out of me is like trying to push butter up a porcupine's arse with a red hot needle. I'm praying for a shower of skunk shit to pass over and I hope the centre of it is over the bunch of bastards in your office, who sent me this final demand.
Yours for more credit
R. Arkwright
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, I wouldnt mind seeing the reply 
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