“What are you here for? Asked Mark.
“To get our share. What you got there? How much?”
“The money we got from this quarter’s earning. About 5 billion.”
“Nice. Gimme 3 billion. I need to pay for our polluting the, hmmm, what’s that called? Right, the ozone.”
“Why are we paying so much for our 0.00000125% pollution. What about China and India?”
“Who cares about them. If we pay this much, that will make me look real good. I need another 1 billion for the carbon initiative; 200 million for doing business in Canada; 500 million to clean up the environment and 300 million for other miscellaneous costs.”
“That will leave us with nothing.”
Then a large, powerfully-built guy stepped forward and Blam! Blam! Blam! Followed by a bunch of clashing sounds that ended after a few minutes. Mark suddenly coughed up a penny.
“You son of a gun! You lied to me. Why the f**k did you say you have nothing left?” The man asked, seething at his mouth.
“Who…who…who are you?” Mark asked in beseeching agony.
“The CRA.”