By Billy O’Handley | Staff Writer
Dear Mr. Of Nazareth,
My name is Richard Davidson, and I work with the Internal Revenue Service, commonly known as the IRS. As you may know, every tax form sent to the IRS is scanned by our computer system to check for irregularities and assigned a discriminate information function score, or DIF score for short. A high DIF score indicates anomalies in tax documentation, possibly pointing to clerical errors, typos, or, in some cases, fraud.
I am writing to you, Mr. Of Nazareth, because you have managed to receive the highest DIF score in the entire 150-year history of the IRS. Your tax documentation is so outrightly fraudulent and mistake riddled that I am personally shocked you even sent it in. We here at the IRS do not care that you “are the son of God” or “know Mel Gibson,” you still have to pay taxes like everyone else.
Here are a few brief examples of the irregularities that pepper your tax forms:
- In the “Schedule A: Itemized Deductions” section of Form 1040, you claimed to have donated 5000 loaves of bread and 2000 fish, for an estimated total value of $32,500, to “The Multitudes.” Not only is “The Multitudes” not a registered 501(c)(3) charity organization but, according to your own admission in a later page of your tax forms, you purchased a total of only five loaves and two fish earlier that same day, leading us to believe that you recklessly exaggerated both total price and quantity of your supposed donation.
- You listed your principal business or profession as “Being the Messiah,” which, according to three other agents and Commissioner of Internal Revenue Charles P. Rettig, is not considered a valid occupation. Moreover, there are already 172 registered messiahs in Jerusalem, all of whom claim sole legitimacy — this matter is currently under investigation.
- Under the “Expenses” subsection of the same form, you listed your home office as “The Kingdom of Heaven and Earth,” claiming a total deductible of “The Kingdom of Heaven and Earth.” Unfortunately, IRS policy stipulates that you cannot claim a planet as a deductible.
- In the “Schedule D: Capital Gains and Losses” section, you listed the “Saved souls of those who hath put their faith in me, the good Lord Jesus Christ” as a capital gain. In the “Casualty and Theft Losses” subsection of Schedule A, you listed the “Souls of the Damned Stolen by Beelzebub” as a theft loss. We were looking for monetary values.
- Under the “Dependents” subsection of the 1040 form, you listed all 327 million residents of the United States of America, complete with social security numbers. Though you claim by way of explanation on page 1,982,746 of your tax form that “We are all children of Jesus,” this assertion is inconsistent with census data, hospital records, and my own family tree.
- In lieu of completing the “Schedule B: Interest and Ordinary Dividends” section, you repeatedly wrote the phrase “The love of money is the root of all evil.” You weren’t supposed to do that. You were supposed to write down your interest and ordinary dividends.
- Most confusing of all, you filled out Form 1310, the “Statement of Person Claiming Refund Due a Deceased Taxpayer” form, with yourself as both the deceased party and the person claiming the refund. This implies that you died and came back to life, which must be an honest mistake. You also filled out the same form for a Lazarus Of Bethany, a man who is undoubtably still alive, as Mr. Of Bethany was also a taxpayer during the 33 AD calendar year.
These represent seven of the seven hundred and thirty-two instances of inconsistent behavior flagged in your documentation; we haven’t even addressed your additional claims that you have given the blind back their sight, healed lepers of their sickness, and, most outlandish of all, profited off a carpentry business. We would therefore like to conduct an in-person review of your records at a later date. Luckily for you, we have extended the filing deadline to July 15th. Looks like the coronavirus was some miracle godsend for you, or something like that.
P.S. Big fan, love the books. What’s Mel Gibson like in real life? ♦