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Christmas at Barbie’s UK Dream House

December 14, 2023
Dolls facing each other

Narrator: It’s been a busy year at the Barbie’s UK Dream House.

Like the record number of UK individuals (3,275) who submitted their tax returns on Xmas day[1], Barbie and Ken have finished their turkey dinner and have started talking tax…

“How’ve you found your first year in the UK then Barbie?”

“Not good, Ken”

“Yeah, I remember that nonsense when we were buying this, our UK Barbie’s Dreamhouse, right here in Mayfair”

“What was all that about Ken? First they tell me I have to pay [x]% stamp duty… then they accuse me of being a Non-Natural Person… I mean… Hello?…Did they not see the end of the year’s biggest film. We live in the real world now”

“But then, get this, Ken. They also add a bit more because I already own the original Barbie’s Dreamhouse and then.. get this… they add a bit MORE, because I was also, like, non-resident at the time.”

“And then there was the other tax scandal Barbie!”

“The Guardian start saying I’m using the Non-Blonde loophole. Which is outrageous as I’m a natural blonde.”

[Ken looks at Barbie in a suspicious manner]

‘Non-dom rules Barbie, non-dom.’

“Well, they told me to come to the UK to save tax. I’d only pay tax on what I bring into the UK! But then I end up with the IRS after me. Saying I’m a UK citizen. Last time I looked, I was president of Barbie Land.’

“I liked it in Barbie Land. We didn’t pay any taxes.”

“Yeah, I think that Murray N Rothbard was on to something Ken…”

“It can’t all be bad, can it Barbie?”

“Well, my accountant gave me some good news about my classic 1953 pink Chevvy convertible.”

“Oh, what was that?”

“My accountant say’s it’s a wasting asset so I won’t have to pay any capital gains tax if I sell it.”

“To be fair, we’ve not been able to drive around much in it, have we?”

“Well, no. It’s always cold and raining… and its been in the garage for months after hitting those potholes.”

“I’ve got some good news, anyway Barbs.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“You know I’ve been watching COP28 right? Well, its in Dubai and I just wanted to see some sunshine… but then I started getting into all the green stuff.”

“What, money?”

“No, the environment and stuff. They were talking about Plastic Packaging Tax and…”

“You’re always going on about your plastic package Ken, grow up.”

No, Plastic Packaging Tax. And, before you mock me, Taxation Magazine has asked me to do an article on it for. In fact, I think I might become a tax adviser you know. It seems there are a bloody lot of taxes. Perhaps I just pick one. Plastic Packaging Tax?

“Good for you. But, the Oppenheimer’s are coming around for a drink in a minute. Please don’t talk to them about that nonsense. You know he’s not into all that new age, climate stuff.”

“They’re not going to be sat around naked in their chairs again, are they?”

“Listen, I know they’re a bit odd. But they had asked us to go over for Xmas dinner so count your blessings Ken.”

“Oh no, remember last year’s dinner Barbie?”

“Yeah. It was inedible. He’d absolutely nuked the turkey.”

[Door-bell rings]

“That’ll be them”

[A few hours later]

“Mrs O and I are having a great time Barbie and Ken. I do love this champagne. Who doesn’t like a bit of fizz… One might say, the more fission, the better!”

“Robert!!! I’ve told you about those awful puns.”

“Just a bit of fun. You know how us physicians love a good dad joke…. [Oppenheimer starts loosening his tie] Anyway, is anyone else getting a bit hot in here?”

[Barbie and Ken look at each other nervously]

“Oh, that reminds me, Dr O. Ken and I were talking about taxes earlier and we were wondering about HICBC. Surely you, the American Prometheus, must understand it”

“HICBC? What is that, some kind of complex chemical compound?”

“No, the High Income Child Benefit Charge.”

“Ha. That. Who do you think I am, Einstein?”

“Anyway, we need to make our excuses, don’t we Mrs O. We’re going to say hello to the new guy who’s moved in down the road.”

“Oh, who’s that?”

“That guy from the other big film this year. You know, the egomaniac with short man syndrome?”

“What? Napoleon?”

“No, Tom Cruise.”

“Enjoy the rest of Christmas…”

[The Oppenheimer’s leave]

Narrator: The atmosphere in the room becomes tense.

“They’re a nice couple, aren’t they Barbie.”

“They were weird a few hours ago. You were worried about them sitting around naked.”

“Well, I think its nice they share the same hobbies… Mrs Oppenheimer is so supportive… and he was building a bomb that could end all civilisation. All I want to be is a tax adviser! Tax advisers never hurt anyone, did they?”

“Don’t be stupid Ken. You were happy being the beach guy no so long ago.”

“Well, I can’t really be the beach guy in West London can I?… If you must know. I am now officially training on Tik Tok as a tax adviser. So there.”

“Sure, Ken”.

[Ken starts to get increasingly irritable]

“… and what, about that bald guy who’s always hanging around you?”

“Our neighbour? John Caudwell?”

“No, the ‘Come on Barbie, Let’s go party guy!’”

“That guy!? He’s such old news. Tell you the truth, he’s started to get a thing for Indiana Jones”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you and him on Kiss TV last night.”

“I’ve told you before Ken. That’s just pretend. And they’re repeats, anyway.”

“Verrrrry convenient.”

“Ok, Ken.”

“Well, Barbie, something else that is convenient. And I know as a trainee tax adviser, that the Finance (No 2) Act 2023 received Royal Assent on 11 July 2023…

“that’s a fine word salad, Ken…”

“… WHICH means that spouses and civil partners no longer have to resolve their finances within the tax year to avoid CGT. We’ve now got three years, Barbie, three years… unless pursuant to an order or agreement – then we’ve got longer!”

“You’ve certainly been reading up Kenneth.”

“Reading? It’s all there on Tik Tok now, Barbe… And one more thing. Main residence relief. That’s dealt with too. So, like, yeah, I’m talking the Dreamhouses here.”

[Barbie is getting irritated]

“This is starting to sound like that patriarchy thing again, Ken. What are you trying to tell me?”

[Narrator: Ken pulls out a letter]

“This, my sweet, is a letter from my solicitor telling you that your husband has filed a petition for divorce… It also tells you to get yourself a solicitor pretty damn quick… Happy Christmas, Barbs!”

[Ken storms out]

“But… we’re not even married, Ken?”

Narrator: and so it came to pass, that this year’s Christmas story was, in its entirety, a lay-up shot for a poor ‘Dirty Ken’ pun.

Mer-rrry Christmas from one and all at ETC Tax…


[1] Record number of Britons file tax returns on Christmas Day | Self-assessment tax | The Guardian

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