Don't Let These Guys Catch You Paying Taxes!

Streaming TV services like Netflix have changed how we watch television, dropping an entire season of a series at once for us to binge on. They've even breathed new life into "quality television," a phrase that used to provoke laughs from that insufferably smug type of person who used to brag that they didn't even own what we all used to call the "idiot box."

Netflix has mined TV gold from all sorts of settings. Orange is the New Black explores life inside a women's prison. Stranger Things is a love letter to classic 1980s sci-fi/horror films. And Bojack Horseman takes us inside the world of a half-man, half-horse, has-been TV star who drinks too much. It was only a matter of time before we'd see inside the upside-down world where the IRS unleashes investigators to chase business owners for . . . wait for it . . . paying their taxes.

Ozark introduces us to Marty Byrde, a frugal Chicago-area financial advisor and family man who drives a 10-year-old Honda and resists moving his firm to flashy new downtown offices. (Prudent, right?) One night, he takes an emergency meeting with his partner, where we discover his real business is laundering cash for a Mexican drug cartel. Then Marty learns his associates have stolen millions (spoiler alert: bad move) and watches the boss's sicarios slaughter them and nonchalantly stuff their bodies in barrels.

Marty, played by the always-slightly-oily Jason Bateman, survives by promising to repay what his partners stole and launder another $500 million. He moves his family to Missouri's Lake of the Ozarks, meets a colorful cast of local characters, and searches for businesses he can use to ply his trade. Meanwhile, investigators have found the bodies from the massacre and connected them to the partner who split town. Adventure and hilarity ensue for 20 episodes, and just like that, your entire weekend is gone.

As for the IRS, they don't get all judge-y about how you make your money. They just want their slice of the pie. (Pie is delicious.) But they do get judge-y when you try to pass off cherry pie as apple. That's a real problem for drug cartels. Their business generates cash, and lots of it. They can't just take suitcases full of Benjamins to the bank without raising red flags. They need to turn that dirty cash into legitimate funds they can use to buy things like jet planes, islands, and tigers on a gold leash.

That's where financial alchemists like Marty earn their keep. They find legit businesses (like a struggling restaurant and a skeevy "gentlemen's club") to hide behind. They run the cash through the legit business's books and deposit it in the legit business's bank. They even pay tax on it. Presto, no more narcodollars! It may not be the kind of business they teach in fancy MBA programs. There aren't any glitzy national conferences, or PR-minded professional associations with continuing education and ethics requirements. But hey, it's a living. (Until suddenly one day it's not.)

IRS agents who target Marty and his ilk are experts in following the money. They partner with agencies like the FBI and DEA to stop crooks from hiding their loot, even when "hiding" means paying taxes on it like anyone else.

Sadly, we can't help if you get mixed up with a Mexican cartel. But we can help you stop wasting money on taxes you don't have to pay. So call us when you're ready for a plan, and have fun binging on the savings!