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The door suddenly rattled with the sound of thumping hands hell-bent on locking up whoever, nay, whatever was inside. "Sir, please come to the door at once or we will be forced to kick it down. Silence. "Very well, knock it down boys" From inside this beast could hear several armed guards scrambling to get in position. He knew it was too late. He rushed to jam the last falsified returns and IRS warning envelopes into his overworked shredder and hastily grabbed his magnetic tape eraser and ran it over his piles of hard drives and used VCRs. THUD. The door bust down. through the dust he could make out the blurry silhouettes of three uptight men. The one in the middle appeared to be the leader, with two bodyguard on either side in case anything got ugly. He knew that it just might have to. "SIR PUT YOUR HAND WHERE I CAN SEE THEM" the man confidently boomed. "YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR PURPOSELY FALSIFYING FEDERAL TAX DOCUMENTS. PLEASE COME WITH ME." In that moment, he knew one thing and one thing only. That this was the end. All his coins, his mushrooms, gone. He had taken a risk that he knew would ultimately fail, yet he went for it anyway. He was nearing the end of his sanity. He stuck his tongue out to mock his oppressors, yet he knew he deserved it. Yoshi committed tax fraud.