Tristen ran into Punk's room, jumping excitedly on the bed.
"Punky! I want new ink!"
The formerly sleeping Superstar rolled over to look at her with a glare.
"I'm sleeping."
"But I want a new tattoo!"
"I'll take ya tomorrow. Now go to sleep, Straightedge."
Tristen giggled and crawled under the covers. Punk popped an eye open.
"Not really what I meant, Tris."
"But it's much more fun!"
Punk smiled.
"Fine, ya can stay. Now go to sleep."
"Kay Punky."
Punk silently counted to three before being bombarded with another question.
"Punk?"
"What?"
"What should I get?"
"I'm sure you'll figure it out by tomorrow. Sleep."
Tristen grinned and closed her eyes. Tomorrow was gonna be good.
"Tristen, wake ya ass up!"
She blinked, then rolled off of Punk.
"Sorry, Phillip! I didn't mean to crush you."
Punk sighed.
"Ya didn't crush me, Tristen. But it's kinda uncomfortable when you're practically on top of me."
Tristen looked at him with a grin.
"That's what she said."
"What up Broski and Broskette?"
Tristen looked at the door, squealed, and jumped on her favorite best friend.
"Zacky! Guess what?"
"What?"
"I'm getting a tattoo!"
"Sweet! What are you getting?"
Tristen froze.
"I um, I don't know."
"I think you should get Punky tattooed on your ass, personally."
She turned and threw a pillow at the man still lying down.
"Hush yourself, Punk!"
Phil grinned. He loved making her mad.
"Anyway, do ya wanna come with me, Ryder?"
Zack grinned.
"Why not? I want some ink too!"
Tristen bounced up and down in the waiting room of Gas Chamber Inc., where Phil said he got all of his tattoos done. His friend Shannon Moore used to be in the WWE, and he promised to get Tristen a discount.
"Yo Colden! You ready?"
She turned to look at Punk, who was leaning against the doorway with saran wrap over his additions to his own ink.
"Um, not really. I have no clue what to get!"
Punk smirked.
"Just get something that means a lot to ya. It ain't that hard."
"Next one!"
Tristen stood, took a deep breath, and walked into the office of one of her wrestling heroes.
"You must be Tristen. I'm Shannon Moore. I hear you're a fan of the WWE."
"Yeah, I am. Huge fan of the Hardyz, and of you. I actually work for the WWE right now."
Shannon nodded.
"So do you know what you want?"
She nodded.
"Yep! I actually have Straightedge tattooed on my neck, and I want to put something underneath that."
Shannon grinned.
"Nice! Color ink?"
"Red. And possibly some flames circling my arm, to signify my boyfriend."
"Kane."
"How'd ya know?"
"I still tune in. I wanna thank you for defending Hardy like that. It meant a lot to me."
Tristen shrugged.
"No big. I've always been a fan of the Hardy boys."
"Oh really now?"
Shannon smirked and pointed to the door.
Tristen turned, then squealed.
"Jeff Hardy!"
The Rainbow-haired Warrior grinned.
"Hellaena."
"You know me?"
"Like Shannon said, I still tune in. Thank you for that shining defense of my honor, by the way."
"No problem! So what are you doing here?"
"I came to see my biggest fan."
She blushed.
"So are you getting a Hardy Boys symbol?"
"Actually, that's not a bad idea. I'll add it to the other two I'm getting."
"You still want the flames?"
"Yes please!"
Shannon smiled at her hyperactive personality, then pulled her into the chair and set to work.
Three hours later, Tristen was incredibly sore on her arm and neck.
"Let's see the new ink, Princess!"
She grinned, then pulled off the gauze.
With the flames, she had gotten the Hardy symbol on her wrist, and just below Straightedge, she had gotten the word Princess.
"Aw, ya didn't get Punky?"
"Hell no! But I got your nickname for me tattooed someplace, so shut up."
Jeff walked out and hugged his biggest fan.
"It was amazing to meet ya, Tristen. If you ever want to do some stunts or anything, don't hesitate to call."
"I won't. Thanks for coming to meet me, Jeff. And get me a copy of your next album, will ya?"
"How do you stand this?"
Zack walked out, holding gauze over his own tattoo.
"What did you get?"
"Something small."
Tristen peeled his gauze back and looked at the tiny Taurus symbol on his leg.
"Damn. Never thought ya'd do it, Ryder!"
"Well neither did I."
They laughed, and Tristen celebrated the glory of her fresh ink.
After all, tattoos were better than drugs, right?