Britons have been advised to keep emergency cash at home, with 40% tucked into a separate envelope for HMRC. Civilisation may collapse, but the reference number must still be correct.
The fictional guidance recommends water, tinned food, a torch and enough loose change to maintain the state through the first seventy-two hours of its complete disappearance. Officials insist the tax envelope should be waterproof. Your sleeping bag is your own problem.
One Surrey resident has divided his emergency drawer into survival, taxation and things bought to feel prepared. The third category contains a £79 tactical torch, a titanium spork and no batteries. The HMRC envelope is immaculate.
Anyone exchanging beans for firewood must record the transaction at fair market value. Accountants are preparing guidance for cases in which the market is a smoking crater and its last independent valuation was carried out by a man called Kev.
The disaster helpline will continue playing hold music throughout the emergency. A recorded message will explain that unusually high demand is being caused by everyone having the same apocalypse. Your call remains important, though considerably less so than your payment.
Survivors unable to file online should locate the nearest functioning printer. Survivors able to locate a functioning printer will immediately be appointed Minister for Infrastructure.
The Treasury has clarified, in this entirely invented scheme, that a major catastrophe does not automatically extend the payment deadline. Citizens hoping to claim planetary destruction as a business expense should retain receipts.
The end of the world is not deductible.
