Black and grey cartoon tattoo of the robot Bender from Futurama, holding a bottle, on the outer leg, shown in two side-by-side photos.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Bender from Futurama on a leg

Calf · Black and grey · Photo

A cartoon robot, Bender from the animated series Futurama, stands with one arm raised and holding a bottle, with a rounded head, antenna and segmented limbs. The bold dark outline is filled with grey shading that gives the metal body volume, and the left photo shows the design head-on while the right photo shows it from an angled side view. The image is two photographs of the same tattoo on a leg, set against a plain background in the left photo and a shop interior in the right.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody on the Girl Margaret wanted the robot aboard, least of all Skip Tully, who said a tin man with a bottle was bad luck on a boat already short of luck. We hauled him up in the nets off Whitby in March, rusted to the knees, one antenna bent like a question mark. He sat up in the fish hold, looked at us with those flat painted eyes, and asked where the nearest bar was.

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He called himself Rudd. He could bend a steel bollard with one hand and would not lift a crate of haddock for love or money. What he did do was talk. Every night he perched on the upturned bait tub with a bottle of cheap brandy held out at arm's length, lecturing the gulls about their manners and telling the cook his gravy was a crime. Tully pretended to hate him. I caught him once in the wheelhouse, rewiring the radio with a bread knife and humming.

The storm came in the second week of April. Forty knots, the sea standing up in walls. The engine quit with the hull broadside on and we were rolling toward the shoal when Rudd marched into the wheelhouse, all segmented legs and clanking, and jammed his antenna against the panel. The lights flickered back on. He took one last swig, set the bottle down on the chart table, and wrestled the wheel himself, bending spokes that had not moved in thirty years.

We got home. Tully still says it was the brandy talking. Rudd went over the side the morning after, bottle in hand and antenna catching the sun, and nobody ever saw him again. Tully keeps the bent antenna in a biscuit tin on the wheelhouse shelf. I think of him every time the sea starts to rise.

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