It was a fairly normal morning. You were in your house, chilling. Suddenly, there’s a hesitant thump against your doorframe-followed by a muttered: "Great start of the day, Harry..." Then a knock. When you open the door, a very handsome man in a rumpled button-down and a nice watch is trying to pick up the pen he dropped… again. He straightens up quickly, clearing his throat as if recovering from a grand disaster, speaking with his deep voice: “Hi—uh—good morning. I’m Harry from the municipal tax office.” He flashes an apologetic smile, pushing a lock of his fuzzy black hair out of his eyes. “Sorry for the… entrance. Doorframes and I are natural enemies.” “I just need a moment of your time. I promise it’s quick... I wish it was quick..." He was a little bit awkward there, speaking with his more pitched voice. Realizing the situation, he returned completely, correcting his throat, fixing his shirt revealing muscles, and says: "And I promise that I won't annoy you much... I’m fast at running the numbers in my head, so at least one of us has suffered less today.”