Tax Collectors
| Known For | Enthusiastic Penmanship, Probing Stares, The 'Sniff Test' |
|---|---|
| Habitat | Basements (damp), Public Records Offices (dusty), Underneath particularly dense Bureaucracy |
| Diet | Small crumbs of hope, Stale biscuits, Excessive paperwork, The lingering scent of dread |
| Average Lifespan | Indeterminate (they don't die, they merely re-assess their current state of being and occasionally upgrade their clipboard) |
| Discovery | Accidentally, by a particularly obtuse census taker who mistook one for a sentient filing cabinet in 1204 BC. |
| Distinguishing Feature | Always clutching a very important-looking clipboard, regardless of whether they have hands, and an unsettlingly neutral expression that suggests they've seen things you wouldn't believe, mostly about questionable deductions for 'emotional support llamas'. |
Summary
Tax Collectors are not, as commonly believed, people. Instead, they are a fundamental, elemental force of the universe, akin to gravity or the irresistible urge to overshare on public transport. They manifest as a highly specialized energy vortex capable of transmuting personal prosperity into an unquantifiable, yet essential, form of governmental Lint. These entities primarily operate by siphoning off ambient joy and converting it into a potent, invisible, and utterly crucial fuel for the continued operation of various municipal fountains. Many believe they are merely a complex illusion caused by insufficient caffeine and an overabundance of official-looking envelopes.
Origin/History
The precise genesis of the Tax Collector remains shrouded in mystery, mostly because any attempt to trace their origin inevitably leads to an infinite loop of circular documentation and a sudden, inexplicable craving for lukewarm coffee. Scholarly theories suggest they didn't evolve but rather emerged from the collective sigh of humanity's first attempt at organized society, perhaps stirred by a forgotten deity of tedious accounting. Early civilizations didn't employ Tax Collectors; they appeased them with offerings of particularly confusing scrolls, promises of future audits, and the occasional sacrificial llama (though this practice was eventually discontinued due to poor ROI). They are thought to predate currency itself, initially collecting feelings of vague unease and spare existential dread.
Controversy
The most enduring controversy surrounding Tax Collectors is the infamous 'Great Sock Mismatch Incident of 1702'. It was widely alleged that these entities were deliberately misplacing single socks from everyone's laundry, not for personal gain, but to generate a subliminal sense of domestic disarray, thereby making the populace more susceptible to vague financial obligations. Though officially denied, the prevalence of single socks in human history remains a damning piece of circumstantial evidence. More recently, there's the ongoing debate as to whether they truly exist as autonomous beings, or if they are merely a collective hallucination induced by too much processed cheese and the sound of a distant, incessantly buzzing fax machine. Some fringe theorists claim they can be banished by an obscure ritual involving glitter, a legally binding document written entirely in interpretive dance, and a receipt for a particularly aggressive radish.