Internal Revenue

by theatre_cop

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy
Length: 1625

There's not a soul who can navigate Equestria's labyrinth of tax codes. Well, except for Prince Blueblood.

It's that time of year again. Ponies must face a maze of tax codes fraught with exceptions, loop holes, and criminal negligence. Over the years, the maddening process has driven over a hundred ponies and one unlucky Gryphon clinically insane.

Nopony looks forwards to it - well - nopony but Prince Blueblood. For you see, Blueblood is the newest director of Internal Revenue.

He has one job: make sure Internal Revenue gets its cut.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2017-04-22 18:25:59 UTC

Ch. 1 - Exemptions for Royalty

Prince Blueblood's cutie mark is a Compass Rose. Many of his peers would think it's because he's an expert navigator. He is. That said, he's never blazed a trail across a jungle or unearthed some long forgotten dungeon. No, his job is much more dangerous. He navigates Equestria's tax code.

The Equestrian tax code is contained in over ten thousand hand written tomes in a variety of languages - both dead and alive - beneath the Royal Canterlot Library. It's considered the most dangerous place in the city, narrowly beating out "Stabber's Row" as a result of a a tour group that went missing somewhere near "Property Tax for Seniors". To physically navigate the codes is a herculean task, but to mentally navigate it's every facet, is impossible. Well, mostly impossible.

In middle school, Blueblood received his cutie mark after filing a tax return that legally made him a Gryphon who'd given birth to two orphans. From that point on, it was clear Prince Blueblood has a rather special talent. He soon found work with the Royal Treasury, specifically as an auditor for the venerated Office of Internal Revenue. The office has a simple mandate. They collect what the treasury is owed, no matter what. Internal Revenue has served Equestria for over six thousand years with excellence, leaving naught a single bit unaccounted for. After nearly a decade of work and an unsettling induction ritual, Blueblood was appointed Director of Internal Revenue.

All that said, tax code is really Prince Blueblood's only talent. By all accounts he's a lazy egotistical narcissist with no redeeming qualities that lie outside the field of taxation. He himself wholeheartedly agrees. For instance, Blueblood once, under threat of strike, Blueblood had Her Highness Princess Celestia grant him the title of "Prince" despite a complete lack of Royal blood. Furthermore, Prince Blueblood has been named "most eligible bachelor" by the Canterlot Times after running a particularly nasty audit on them.

Blueblood is not pleasant to have around. However, he is necessary to have around.

* * *

It was Blueblood's favorite time of year: tax season. All around the great nation of Equestria, ponies donned their reading glasses and unsheathed their quills, making ready to do battle against an endless torrent of tax forms. It was Blueblood's job to ensure things went smoothly. Well, smoothly as tax season can go. The mere though of it put a swagger into his trot. Entering Canterlot's dining hall, Blueblood spotted the only two ponies who - in a technical sense - had more power than him. The Royal sisters looking up from their respective breakfasts to give Blueblood a set of genuine looking fake smiles.

"Good morning Auntie," Blueblood said, nodding towards Celestia. "You too, other Auntie, " he said to Luna only, who only rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to breakfast.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Blueblood?" Celestia asked.

"It's Prince," Blueblood corrected her with a polite smile.

"Sorry, Prince Blueblood, what seems to be -"

"I need a teensy favor," Blueblood interjected as he sidled up between to two sisters. Next, he levitated a thick set of scrolls onto the table, right between a fruit salad and a partially eaten stack of pancakes. "This is tax code proposition 50903 (b)," he explained. "Due to time constraints, I need it signed into law by a Royal edict. Now."

The two sister's looked between each other. Luna frowned.

"And what might this proposition be?" The princess of the night asked through a mouthful of pancakes.

Blueblood rolled his eyes. "To put it simply, it's a foreign buyer's property tax for Yaks in middle class Manehattan suburbs. Now, If you could sign here, I'll be on my way."

"We do not serve at your leisure," Luna said through a syrupy frown. "Leave these papers in my study. I'll review them later."

For the briefest of moments, annoyance flashed across Blueblood's face. He looked to Celestia who hastily returned to eating her fruit salad.

"Princess," Blueblood said, looking into Luna's eyes with an unblinking stare. "As we speak, a boatload of Yaks with far too many bits is on their way to the port of Manehattan. If they purchase any property upwards of 1.9 million bits, the entire Equestrian housing market will collapse."

Luna, rather taken aback by Blueblood, blinked in surprise. "Your tone is unfit to -"

"If the housing market collapses -" Blueblood insisted ", millions will be unemployed, the treasury will be empty, and we'll have to pillage the Dragon Lands for the third time this century."

"Well, I don't -"

"Listen here," Blueblood hissed, cutting off the flustered Alicorn. "During your thousand years on the moon, did you once file a tax return?" He stared through Luna, who said nothing. "No, I thought not. In that case, perhaps you can sign this proposition. In return, I can delay your audit for - say - another millennia or so. Deal?"

Luna frowned. After thinking the issue over, she summoned herself a quill. "Yes, perhaps we should delay that," she agreed as she signed the proposition. "Now, if there's nothing else."

"Absolutely nothing, thank you for being so agreeable." Blueblood collected his things and flashed his signature - albeit tacky - smile. "Have a lovely breakfast."

"And a lovely day to you, nephew," Celestia said.

At that, Blueblood took his leave and set back out into the palace with one more thing crossed off his to-do list. Luna watched him trot of with a frown.

"Sister, do you have to call him nephew?"

"For a number of reasons - complicated ones I'm sure - It makes him happy."

Luna rolled her eyes. "And Is there a reason you seem so keen to keep him around?" she asked. "I'm sure there are far less annoying bureaucrats willing to fill his position."

"That's what you'd think," Celestia answered. "But despite Blueblood's rather - uh - abrasive personality, he's personally saved Equestria from no less that four economic disasters, a coup d'etat and - if I understood correctly - a land war with Yakyakistan," she said. "And that was just last month."

* * *

Blueblood's hooves clicked as he sauntered through the Royal Palace. If he recalled correctly, the castle's construction was entirely funded by bits collected from tax code 36888 (n), which deemed that a lack of income was no excuse to not pay income tax. Equestria - or at least the Royal Sisters - certainly owed a great deal to Internal Revenue. He began to wonder if he should amend code 36888 to include unborn ponies, when he heard a voice.

"Prince Blueblood," it said, echoing across the palace's great halls. "A word with you?"

Blueblood turned around to find Kibitz, the Majordomo of the palace. The stallion was rather famous in bureaucratic circles. Officially, he made sure the sisters got to their appointments on time. In reality, he did nearly everything else as well. When a problem arose that didn't have to do with friendship, monsters, or looking pretty - which was most of them - Kibitz could be found on the scene. That said, he didn't dare interfere with the dark arts of taxation. That was Internal Revenue's territory.

"My dear colleague," Blueblood said to Kibitz, flashing his smile. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The pale unicorn took up a pace alongside Blueblood. "There's an urgent message for you here," Kibitz said as he levitated a sealed letter to Blueblood.

Blueblood glanced at the envelope and noticed the blue seal of the Royal Guard. "Do the sister's have you delivering letters too now?" he asked as he stowed the letter. "You really should complain more. When a necessary pony complains, the possibilities are endless."

"No time for that, I'm afraid" Kibitz replied. "Far too busy."

Blueblood shrugged inference. "So be it. Now, what does the letter say? Reading isn't good for my complexion," he complained expertly.

Kibitz checked his timepiece before addressing him. "It's a favor from the Royal Guard, or so I'm told," he said. "After Internal Revenue managed to charge Al Capony on felony tax evasion, I suppose Equestria's finest owe you one. The letter itself says that one of their many informants has stumbled upon something you'd find interesting."

"I'll be the judge of that. What is it?"

"According to them, the largest case of tax fraud in Equestrian history is set to occur in Ponyville."

"That's a bold claim," Blueblood said, now somewhat intrigued. "To beat out the time Manehattan declared itself a sovereign nation would require a great deal of illicit bits. You're sure sure of this?"

"I'm not, but the Royal Guard is. So in other words, take it with a grain of salt."

''Fair point," Blueblood agreed. The Royal Guard's history was a pockmarked one to say the least. "I suppose I shouldn't put my utmost trust in an institution who's captain spends his days honeymooning in the Crystal Empire."

"Well said."

"However," Blueblood pressed on, "Anything that comes even close to the Manehattan debacle requires some sort of investigation. Perhaps an audit is in order. I could catch up with old friends in Ponyville, too."

"You have friends?" Kibitz asked skeptically.

"Well, friends have me," Blueblood replied. The two walked in silence a little further before Blueblood spoke. "I think I'll go to Ponyville, Kibitz."

"A wise choice."

"It was, wasn't it? Now if you'll excuse me, I have to pack. Make sure nopony burns down Canterlot while I'm gone," Blueblood ordered as began to trot to his quarters. "And one more thing. Do tell Princess Luna to stop eating so many pancakes. It's not doing her figure any favors."