A black and white flash sheet of twenty labelled moustache designs, shown as stencil-style temporary tattoo artwork with no body placement visible.

Moustache designs on a temporary tattoo sheet

Black and grey · Flash

This is a flash sheet of twenty black moustache designs in solid silhouette, each with a printed name beneath it, such as The Sheriff, The Villain and Double Fingerstache. The shapes are simple filled forms with no shading, arranged in two columns on a pale background. A code, D-44, appears in the lower left corner.

Moustache Stencil

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sheet came skittering over the Route 9 cattle grid as if it had somewhere to be, and I stood at the Dry Wells pump and read it as it snagged on my boot. Twenty moustaches in black card, each with a name printed underneath. The Sheriff. The Prospector. The Crybaby, which was a fair description of the sky that afternoon. Double Fingerstache, which sounded like a dare.

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Nobody came to Dry Wells for anything but petrol and bad coffee, so I had time to try them. The Villain went on first, its curls pointing at the scrubby hills, and I spent an hour practising a sneer at a cactus. Lorraine from the motel across the road laughed until she had to sit on the kerb. Then a lorry driver called Sal pulled in with a face like a shut bank, and when she saw The Gunslinger she bought four litres of water and didn't argue about the price.

Word got about. By Thursday a rancher wanted The Prospector for his nephew's wedding, a woman from Tucson sent a postcard asking for El Bandito in gold ink, and a boy on a bicycle begged for the Crybaby so his mum would think he'd been crying. I gave them all the same answer. The sheet wasn't mine, and the names weren't for sale, only for borrowing.

When the wind finally took the last shapes off the forecourt, I pinned the empty backing under a stone by the pump. Somewhere past the cattle grid, a stranger would find the sheet snagged on a fence wire and read the names, and I hoped they would choose the one that suited them.