Ahhhhh.....sweet revenge

There's this fat kid in town that goes by the name of Jimmy Jensen. Nice enough guy but he can be annoying at times and last year he clipped my mailbox when he was driving by and snapped the post off at the base.

There was mail scattered all over, the mailbox was pretty dented up, and, like I said, the post was rendered useless.

I surveyed the damage and watched him drive off. He had no idea that I was watching him, nor, to the best of my knowledge, was he aware of what he had just done.

I remained calm and told myself that someday I would get even.

Yesterday.... revenge was mine.

It seems that Jimmy was determined to get his first tattoo and after giving it much thought he had decided on a small soaring eagle on the right side of his upper back. He wanted something about the size of a dime so it wasn't too conspicuous and if he ever wanted it removed it could be done with a minimum of pain.

He asked around town where he could get such a tattoo done and the general consensus was the nearest big city, which is approximately 300 miles away.

Jimmy went to the gas station and filled his car up in preparation for the journey ahead. As he was paying for his gas he mentioned to the attendant what he was about to do.

"Well, hell, Jimmy, why drive all the way to Omaha? Why don't you just go over to Ratzenhofer's? Ol' Gus is pretty good with the ink."

So that's how Jimmy ended up at my place. He told me what he wanted done and I said, "No problem, Jimmy. Take off your shirt. One small eagle coming up."

Jimmy complained a few times during the process, wondering why it was taking so long to tattoo a small eagle on his back and why was he feeling pain all over. I assured him it was simply nerves sending out fake signals.

Finally, I finished the job....




The beauty of this is that Jimmy is so fat that even with his noblest contortions he was unable to see the tattoo even with the assistance of a mirror.

"Does it look good, Gus? Does the eagle look like it is soaring through the air?"

"Sure does, Jimmy. Now go on... get the hell out of here.