LOTS of it. So much that the fan is battling to rotate and is about to malfunction. And possibly explode.
Oh taxman. You bastard. How we hate you, you thieving tyrant.
You, dear readers, may sense some slight angst on my side, and for good reason. We have been royally shafted and now need to generate extra cash. ASAP.
This is going to be one hell of a quarter mile.
* Illustration by me.