I've always sort of wondered about how Jacuzzi managed to get his tattoo when he was like...I'm not sure about his age but I'm thinking...eight? What sort of tattoo parlor would do such a thing? I can only assume that these sort of rules were a lot more chill back in the twenties when Jacuzzi was a munchkin. Alright, now on with the story.

The needle hovered only a few inches above pale, untouched flesh. "Hey, Kid. How old are you?" the tattoo artist hesitated at the last moment.

"Wh-what? Why does that matter?" Amends to the artist. Poor Jacuzzi had finally worked up the courage to take the searing pain just left of his eye, but the pause had shattered all that.

"You look pretty young to me," the man said thoughtfully, "This is a bad idea. I can't be giving tattoos to someone so little. Sorry, Kid."

The needle withdrew from its menacing position and Jacuzzi shot up right behind it.

"You can't do that!" he declared, if somewhat angrily. The artist furrowed his eyebrows, but despite being double Jacuzzi's size, didn't lash out against him. If he didn't want to get in trouble for giving a young (willing) kid a tattoo, he certainly didn't want to get in trouble for punching one.

"Oh? And why's that?"

Jacuzzi instantly clammed up and looked at his feet. "I have to get it. It's for Nice."

"It's for your niece? Don't make that mistake, Kid."

"No, no! It's for a girl named Nice. She's my best friend. But her face is all..." Jacuzzi waved his hands in front of his head, trying to figure out a good word to describe what Nice had been through.

"Ugly?" the artist suggested.

"No! No, not at all! She's really pretty. But she-she's missing an eye." Best to not even go into detail on all the scars his best friend had recently received. She was still bandaged up like an Egyptian mummy.

"The mafia strikes again!" The artist spun himself in his swiveling chair with such force, he doubled around a few times before coming to a clean halt, back facing young Jacuzzi.

"An explosive, actually. But people are going to stare at her when the wrappings come off. And I don't want her to be alone."

Jacuzzi looked to his feet, thinking of the little girl Nice had once been, and the one she would be once she was finally allowed to leave the confines of her house again.

Would she leave the bandages there? She'd joked once about an eye patch...but at the time the joke was so half hearted it was almost saddening.

This managed to catch the attention of the artist, though, who spun around and brought the chair with him. The rags he'd been using to clean his instruments hung limply in his meaty paw.

"You've got to be kidding me. You're getting a tattoo because your girlfriend's missing an eye, and you want to be stared at, too?" Jacuzzi nodded vehemently, confirming the man's summarization. He was wary of the word 'girlfriend' being used, but it wasn't worth correcting.

The man ran a hand over his head, through what was left of his shaven hair. "How old did you say you were?"

"I'm ten," Jacuzzi admitted. It was all down hill from there. He'd be lucky to get out of the parlor without the man calling the hospital to admit him.

"And you're aware that this tattoo will last you for the rest of your life? Even if you break up with that girlfriend of yours, people will still be staring at you? Right?"

"Yes, I understand. But I won't break up with her. I'll always-"

"Alright, alright, nothing sappy, Kid. Get in the chair. This is going to hurt. A lot. Maybe you can find something to bite down on?"

Jacuzzi felt more accomplished than ever in his short life. He floated to the chair and sunk into it. He hoped that the delightedness he was currently feeling was enough to at least dull any pain.

"And what exactly do you want on your face, anyway? Just a big scar?"

"No. Can you make it a sword?"

"A sword? A sword scar? Why a sword?"

Jacuzzi shrugged sheepishly. "Swords are powerful?"

Nothing much to say except perhaps a Claire and Chane story will come next? Rather predictable, yes, but I love the couple. Though I will have to finish my Ennis and Czeslaw story first.

Peace out!

-Lexi