“There are no squids in the aquarium”
The most extraordinary thing about the man- The red uniform
- undergarments, sneakers
- Clearly, this man is a fuckwit.
- equipped with a single, huge gold-plated
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“There are no squids in the aquarium,” I said, feigning sadness. “No squids means no squid ink, and that means no tattoos for us.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Tessa pointed across the concourse to a man on a bicycle. The airship’s official roving tattoo artist, I realized. What were the odds he’d be right where we were when Tessa got the urge?
The bicycle sported a striped umbrella and a large box on the front like an ice cream cart. The most extraordinary thing about the man, though, was not his mode of transportation. The red uniform, visible undergarments, sneakers, and sunglasses were quite arresting. His mobile tattoo kiosk played an inane chiming tune on a loop.
I turned to Tessa in puzzlement. “Clearly, this man is a fuckwit. All of the roving tattoo artists are. We can’t get tattoos from him.”
“Of course not. We have to give them to each other. We’ll just get the ink from him.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me along as she flagged the artist down.
We didn’t have a choice as to color, for the artist was only equipped with a single, huge gold-plated bottle of ink, and it was as red as his uniform.
“Perfect!” Tessa cried. “I’ll buy the whole bottle.”
bonus points for using them in order