The Girl With The Weird Tramp Stamp

TrampStamp2 copy

Three fraternity brothers leaned against the wall of their favorite college watering hole, waiting for the alcohol in their cups to take hold and the women walking by to become approachable. The bar stood on the edge of the district, so people had already made two or three or ten stops by the time they came stumbling through the front door. Across the street was a dingy 24-hour tattoo parlor, strategically located to attract the poorest decision-makers in town.

“That one,” said Pudge, a hefty junior.

“She’s perfect for you,” said Kevin, motioning towards a rotund girl with a bowl cut. She wore a dress that was several shades of green, which made her look like a giant head of lettuce.

“Didn’t think you were a fan of salad, Pudge,” said Monty.

“Not her you assholes,” Pudge said. “The one behind her.”

Just past the stubby vegetable, a beautiful woman leaned against the bar. She had long blonde hair, long tan legs, and daisy dukes that looked as though they were painted on her perfect ass.

“Goddamn!” said Kevin.

“No way,” said Monty.

“Yes way,” said Pudge.

“If you get her number – and we have to confirm it’s not fake – I’ll pay you the $200 you owe me from the Little League World Series,” Monty said.

“Fucking Japanese kids,” Pudge said. He threw back the remainder of his drink, exhaled swiftly while rolling his neck like a boxer before the bell, and took off on a beeline for the blonde beauty.

He squeezed passed the full-grown Cabbage Patch Kid and tapped his target on the shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Pudge,” he said, extending a hand.

The blonde woman continued to look straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge his existence.

Pudge nervously cleared his throat. “So uuuh, what’s your name?”

No response. Pudge pressed on.

“Where you from?”

“What’s your major?”

Pudge saw his friends starting to snicker out of the corner of his eye.

“What kinda music you like? I’m really into Skrillex right now. He’s got that song that’s like, bwaaaa-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-bwaaaaa-ba-ba-ba call 911 now! You heard it?”

Pudge let out a sigh and turned to walk away when the woman bent over to adjust a strap on her heel. That’s when Pudge saw it. Just beneath a thin, pink thong string, a triumphant black triangle tattoo adorned with a strange pattern emerged from the waistline of her jeans.

Pudge stared for a moment, completely entranced. Not by the thong or the dimples on her butt, either. There was something about the triangle tattoo that was mesmerizing. Hypnotic. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. Then he disappeared into the crowd.

About 45 minutes later, Kevin and Monty, ready to throw in the towel and hit up a taco stand before going home, wondered where Pudge had gone.

“Whassuuuup mothafuckas!” Pudge suddenly emerged from the crowd, flexing both arms to show off a bandage covering his right bicep.

Monty’s mouth hit the floor. “What in the fuck did you –”

Pudge put a finger on Monty’s lips. “Sh sh sh sh sh,” he whispered. “I’ll take the two hundred in cash.”

Then Pudge tore off the bandage to reveal a black triangle tattoo with a strange pattern on it. He explained that he ran across the street and paid the dingy parlor forty-five bucks for a tattoo that matched the girl’s tramp stamp. Monty and Kevin laughed, but the laughter quickly turned into a deep concentration. They stared at the ink — not so much out of shock that their friend had just permanently marked himself for a girl he never met — more so out of an unshakeable fascination with the tattoo itself. There was something mesmerizing about it. Hypnotic.

Before either one of them could get a word out, Pudge was headed for his blonde beauty, who leaned against the same spot on the bar as before.

Pudge sat next to her on a stool and plopped his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand so his new tat was clearly visible.

Pudge cleared his throat. “So uuuh, airplane food. Pfffft. Am I right?”

The blonde woman glared at him through the corner of her eyes, then reverted her attention ahead. Then her eyeballs shot back at Pudge like they had missed something. She turned to face him and grabbed his tatted upper arm with both hands. A huge grin stretched across her face.

“Your tattoo!” she exclaimed.

Pudge’s face turned red. He tried to keep cool. “Oh yeah…this old thing? I’ve had it since I was like 12. It symbolizes my love of, like, unity and uuuh, like, geometry and –“

She interrupted Pudge with a dark, serious voice. “Doo rabba-rabba doo rabba-rabba.”

Pudge just stared at her for a moment. “So uuuh…I’m Pudge. What is your na—“

“Rok filla ming mang top buk ram.”

Pudge was taken aback. Never before had he been in the presence of a woman so exotic. “That’s a pretty name. Is it French? Do you have like a nickname or –”

“Doo rabba-rabba doo rabba-rabba.”

“Haha I get it — Pig Latin,” said Pudge. “Esyay. I oday eakspay igpay atinlay.”

The woman grabbed Pudge by the hand and led him towards the front door. Pudge waved at Kevin and Monty, who watched on in utter shock.

“Shamalama ding dong mothafuckaas!” Pudge called to them.

They both gave a half-hearted wave back, watching the woman lead Pudge outside into the night air.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Kevin said.

“What do you think he said to her?” Monty breathed.

The two had no idea what the hell had just happened, but they were proud of Pudge for sealing the deal -– even if it cost him the ability to wear short sleeves in an office setting. They finished their drinks, left the bar, and started walking back to the fraternity house when suddenly, a crazed man with long, matted hair and a thick beard darted from an alley, shouting gibberish. He crashed into Monty and fell to the ground.

“Easy bud,” Monty said. He reached out a hand and pulled the vagrant to his feet. Then, both Monty and Kevin saw it. A marking on the man’s wrist: A triangle with a strange pattern over it. It was mesmerizing. Hypnotic.

“I’m late I’m late!” the crazy man screamed.

“Late for what?” Monty asked.

“Why, the second coming of the sky god, of course! He shall return with the sacrifice of the newcomer. Ah yes, nice and plump I hear. The sky god will be pleased!”

Monty and Kevin looked at each other.

“This sacrifice,” Monty said. “Where will it be held?”

“The old church on Main!” the man shouted. “Doo rabba-rabba doo rabba-rabba!”

With that, the man took off into the night, continuing to holler nonsense.

“Dude,” Monty said. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“That you could really go for a taco right now?” Kevin asked.

“No you idiot. The tattoo on the homeless dude — it’s the same one the girl had. The same one Pudge got!”

Kevin stared at him blankly.

Monty continued. “The tattoos…Pudge leaving with that hot chick…the sacrifice of the plump newcomer…”

“Oh fuck,” Kevin said. “They’re gonna make Pudge into a taco for the sun god!”

“Basically!” Monty shouted. “We gotta go save him!”

The duo took off on a mad dash for the old church, stopping but briefly to pick up a taco at a nearby stand.

To Be Continued…

Tune in next Tuesday for part 2

  1. DornFromMajorLeague

    They’re appropriating culture by wanting tacos. That’s offensive and also probably a trigger of some sort.

    9 years ago at 11:41 am
    1. The ATF Store

      That is comparable to a girl telling you on the first date that “we’re meant to be together”. Throws up all kinds of desperate and creepy flags. In conclusion, NF.

      9 years ago at 11:53 am
      1. sdh266

        Easy: Burt challenges Chekov to a boxing match on TV and it mirrors how Rocky IV ended, showing that America is better than Russia in every aspect of life.

        9 years ago at 5:37 pm
  2. Drunk Chris Berman

    Somewhere someone has been triggered and will post about how offended they are about this “ignorant” article

    9 years ago at 12:07 pm