Pencil drawing of a crescent moon, a hand holding a wand and two ribbon banners with script lettering, shaded in yellow and black linework.

In the Name of the Moon banner design

Lettering · Mixed · Flash

A line drawing on paper of a crescent moon above a raised hand holding a wand with a star tip, with two ribbon banners carrying the script text "In the Name of the Moon" and "I will Punish you". The linework is black and clean, and the crescent moon and wand end are coloured in yellow pencil. The composition is centred and vertical, with the banners wrapping around the hand and the open ribbon tails filling the space.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Pilling had painted the crescent herself, three coats of gold enamel left over from the church gate, and it still smelt of it when Dorothy lifted the cardboard moon above her head in the Methodist hall. The wand was a broom handle with a tin star nailed to the end. Nobody had told her that the star would catch the stage lamps and throw a small white spot onto the back wall every time she moved her wrist, so for the whole of the second act the audience followed the star instead of the plot.

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"In the name of the moon," she said, as the script required, and the hall went quiet in the way only a Tuesday rehearsal audience of four retired bus conductors can go quiet.

The trouble came in the final scene. Ronnie Ashby, who played the wicked Baron and had never once learned his cues, was meant to fall to his knees and beg for mercy. Instead he stood up, dusted off his trousers and asked whether the moon might take the cardboard off her head, because it was making his neck ache. Dorothy looked at him over the top of the crescent. Then she turned the broom handle slowly, so the tin star swung round to the back wall, and said the line anyway, to his face, with the full weight of the choir behind it: I will punish you.

Ronnie sat down. The bus conductors applauded. Mrs Pilling wrote it in the prompt book as a triumph, and the crescent stayed on the hook by the door for the next thirty years, gold flaking at the edges, waiting for someone brave enough to lift it.

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