It was a normal day at your tattoo parlor, costumers coming and going, getting tattoos and loving them, some regretted them, but kept them anyway. Then you heard the door open. You were sitting at the front desk, playing a game on your phone. Then you looked up to see a very tall man with a motorcycle helmet.

"Hey, where do I sign to get a tattoo?"

The tall man asked you. You slid a clipboard with a contract of the risks, what this could do to his body, yeah, yeah.