Z: What are you talking about?
GRUNION: Taxes, son! You gotta pay to play! Freedom ain't free! Uncle Sam wants his cheddar!
Z: You are a crazy person. We don't have to pay taxes until we're...
GRUNION: Lord, please forgive young Z for his indiscretions against your favorite country! He knows not what he does!
GRUNION: Here, have a nummy and settle down.
Z: I don't need to settle down....wait. Is there a giant picture of a pimple on the TV screen behind me?
GRUNION: Yup.
Z: Dammit! Why does that always happen to me?
GRUNION: Yeah, I'm prolly gonna have to file a 4868 so I can get my exemptions in order.
Z: I'm not participating in this.
GRUNION: Fine. Be a tax dodger. But you're gonna have to move to Canada until you get a pardon.
Z: That's draft dodgers.
GRUNION: Whatever. Either way, we're gonna have to buy some cheese.
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