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Christmas Night.
The last call of the evening went to the Cooper household.
"Mrs. Cooper, Merry Christmas!" Adam said.
"Merry Christmas, Adam!" Sheldon's mom chirped back, thrilled. "I heard you've come up with some new cancer treatment. You're truly a child of God—blessed by the Lord!"
"Thank God," Adam replied with a smile. Well, technically Pluto, but God and Pluto are two sides of the same coin, right? Close enough.
"I'll grab Shelly for you," Mrs. Cooper said, tossing in a few more "believe in God, gain eternal life" lines before smartly calling out, "Shelly~!"
"Hello," came Sheldon's reluctant voice after a long pause.
"Hey, Shelly, what's got you down? Spill it—let's all have a laugh!" Adam teased.
"Don't call me that!" Sheldon snapped. "Only Mom and Grandma get to call me Shelly. Nobody else! And how could I be happy dragged back home on a day like this?"
"Heh, right, I forgot you've never been a Christmas fan," Adam said, though his grin said otherwise.
"There's no real Christmas. Jesus was born in the summer—it was just shoved onto some pagan holiday later…" Sheldon started.
"SHELLY!!!" His devout mom's furious yell cut him off.
"…Happy Newton Day," Sheldon muttered, switching gears to dodge her wrath.
Adam chuckled. He got it—Isaac Newton, science giant, was born December 25th. Celebrating him over a date-shifted Jesus fit Sheldon's worldview perfectly.
After a bit more teasing, Adam was about to hand the phone to Peggy when George Jr.'s voice popped up. "Adam, I don't like my current accountant, so I fired him. After Christmas, I'm hiring a new one."
"You're the CEO—hiring's your call," Adam said, pausing with a grin. "As long as it's not Sheldon, I'm cool with it."
George Jr.'s Tire Doctor chain was up to 10 stores now. Adam invested but stayed hands-off—though Ada's team kept tabs on the books for basic oversight.
"I'd shut the company down before letting him near the finances," George Jr. snorted. "I don't need the IRS breathing down my neck."
"Pfft! I've been doing our family's taxes since I was nine," Sheldon huffed in the background. "Show my returns to any accountant—they'll say they're flawless! Even when the IRS miscalculated and tried to overcharge us, I shut them down. You should be begging me to do your taxes—it's an honor!"
"You're not wrong," George Jr. said with a mocking edge. "Your taxes are perfect. But arguing with the IRS over a few bucks? Bold move…"
"They were wrong!" Sheldon shot back. "They admitted it—we didn't owe a thing."
"Yeah, and then we landed on their watchlist," George Jr. grumbled. "They turned our lives upside down, audited us for three straight years. I'm not letting my company deal with that. With your track record, even if you're a math whiz with perfect books, no one's hiring you as an accountant. Ask Adam if you don't believe me."
"Adam?" Sheldon actually did.
"I thought your goal was the stars, the universe's deepest secrets," Adam said, deadpan. "An accountant? That's beneath you, man."
"See!" Sheldon beamed at George Jr., smug as ever.
"He's messing with you," George Jr. said flatly. "He's saying even you don't deserve that gig."
"No~!" Sheldon's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Adam, be real," George Jr. taunted. "Would you let Sheldon handle your books?"
"Sure," Adam said with a laugh. "His skills are top-notch. I'm just worried about his bladder…"
"HAHAHA!" George Jr. roared with laughter. Missy's giggles chimed in too.
Back in the day, Sheldon had fought the IRS over a few dollars, ignoring his dad's pleas. He'd faced them head-on to prove his tax-filing perfection. Mid-argument, they'd caught him on a technicality, and he'd panicked so hard he lost control of his bladder—straight to the bathroom. He'd later fired back with a loophole and "won," but Adam figured the IRS just didn't want to hassle a kid. Plenty of tax rules are gray—lawyers call it "interpretive flexibility." Black can be white, white can be black, depending on who's slicker and who the judge sides with. In a real showdown, Sheldon's shaky bladder and rigid legal cluelessness would've tanked him.
Harvard Law profs love their Socratic grilling. Like:
"Who said, 'Law is reason free from passion'?"
"Aristotle," a student answers.
The prof smirks, "Sure? Bet your life on it?"
"Uh… I think so."
"What about his life?"—pointing at another student.
"I… don't know," the kid stammers, suddenly unsure if Aristotle cribbed it from someone else. Academic borrowing's a mess, after all.
"Speak when you're certain," the prof says. "Law's got wiggle room, but not for self-doubt. Oh, and yeah, it was Aristotle."
Lawyers deal with that. The IRS? They've got their own guns, courts, and jails—a full-stack power trip. Drag Sheldon in, and they'd have him leaking from both ends, flooding the place. 😂 Companies can dodge taxes legally, but you don't explain how. Spell it out, and it's 100% illegal. Sheldon's mouth? A self-sabotaging disaster.
Future Howard's security clearance? Sheldon blabbed about Howard crashing a Mars rover to impress a girl and Leonard sleeping with a spy, nearly spilling classified beans. Agent Jesse Page let it slide, but otherwise, they'd have been toast—all thanks to Sheldon's "honesty." Perfect accountant or not, Adam wouldn't let him near his finances!
(End of Chapter)