Taxes

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"You pay taxes?" Dick asked, glancing down at the paperwork scattered across Jason's desk.

"Of course I pay taxes," Jason mumbled, "you need to lie back down."

Dick allowed Jason to help him back to the couch he'd been lying on. "You're a drug lord running a illegal crime ring and murdering people on the daily... and you pay taxes..."

"The IRS is scary," Jason replied.

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