Red name badge tattoo on an upper arm reading Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, You killed my Father, Prepare to die, in black lettering.

Name badge tattoo with movie quote

Lettering · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A red name badge is tattooed on the upper arm, with HELLO in white capitals and my name is in smaller white script above a black handwritten name and two lines of black lettering. The badge has a flat, solid red fill with a lighter band behind the name and soft shading along its edges. The design is centred and filled the frame against a dark background.

Lettering Upper arm Quote Lettering

Find an artist for this

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 badge turns up on the kitchen table under the marmalade, still faintly warm from the printer in the porch. Someone has written your name across the middle in careful black pen, and beneath it, in Dilys's looping hand, a line about the ewes you let into the wrong field. It is January, the yard is a slurry of frost and dung, and for three weeks you have been the lad from the bus.

Keep reading

Dilys finds you in the lambing shed at six, sleeves rolled, a flask balanced on a hay bale. "Thought you'd want a proper name," she says, "for when the vet rings up asking for the one who's been pulling lambs." You tell her you'd rather be called anything else. She says that's the trouble with names. They stick to whoever is nearest.

In the pen at the back, a ewe is straining. You kneel in the straw, the cold coming up through your jeans, and you work the way Gwyn showed you, slow and patient, until two wet hooves appear and then a nose. The lamb sneezes, shakes its head and objects loudly to the whole arrangement. Dilys laughs from the doorway and says it's the first thing you've done on this farm that the badge could be proud of.

That night you peel the sticker off the paper, smooth it flat and press it to the inside of the shed door, at eye level, where the lambing book hangs. Next winter, some new lad will read it, squint at the ewes line and ask who on earth Dilys was talking about.