Black and white flash sheet of Joker-themed tattoo designs, including a jester skull, playing cards, HAHA lettering, a grinning mouth and the word JOKER.

Joker-themed tattoo flash sheet in black ink

Traditional · Black and grey · Flash

A flash sheet of nine black ink designs themed around the Joker character. Elements include a jester-hatted skull, a fanned hand of playing cards above repeated HAHA lettering, a jester figure beside the word SMILE, a grinning toothed mouth, a blocky JOKER lettering piece and a torn strip with stitch-like marks. The linework is bold and solid, with mostly flat black fills and no shading or colour.

Traditional Lettering Joker Skull Playing card Lettering Smile Mouth

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The jester on Deck Nine had been laughing for three days before anyone thought to check the hull. Its voice box ran the same six syllables, HA, ha, HA, in a rhythm that made the galley cooks put down their knives. Management called it a speaker fault. I said nothing, because I was the only rigger left on the ring who still carried a needle and a spool of waxed linen, and so I was the one they sent up the ladder.

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Its face was a row of enamel teeth, chipped at the corners where the paint had flaked, and under the collar a strip of grey canvas hung torn along its seams. I levered the panel open. Wedged against the cabling was a playing card, the ace of spades, its edges gone soft from handling. On the back someone had written in pencil: count the rivets, Ada. My mother had been dead eleven years, and her hand looped its Ds exactly like that.

I counted them. Forty-one along the seam, and one hole with nothing in it near the vent. When I crouched to look, the laughter stopped mid-HA, as if someone had cut a wire, and far down the corridor the pressure alarms began to chime, polite and slow. Frost was already blooming on the inside of the viewport.

I threaded the needle and sewed that empty rivet hole shut with waxed linen while the air thinned in my ears. The jester did not laugh again. Afterwards they gave me a commendation and a fresh spool, and I kept the card in my breast pocket, where it still smells faintly of machine oil and of her kitchen.