Traditional flash drawing of a horned pin-up devil woman holding a pistol, with a "NEVER FEEL SORRY" banner, a red skull and crossbones, and a red devil tail.

Pin-up devil with gun and banners

Traditional · Mixed · Flash

A pin-up style devil woman with red horns and a black pistol stands in a red and black polka dot swimsuit, with a red devil tail curling from her side. She is framed by two scroll banners reading "NEVER FEEL SORRY", beside a red skull and crossbones. The design uses bold black outlines and flat red and black fills on a cream background.

Traditional Pin-up Devil Horn Pistol Gun Polka dot Skull Crossbones Banner Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dolores Vane had been dealt three kings and a bad feeling, and the bad feeling was sitting across the baize in a waistcoat two sizes too small. Harold Pike had been sweating since the first hand. The Cinder Rose was empty except for the ceiling fan, the drip from the gents and the barman polishing a glass that was already clean.

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"The deed to the Sandwell Street warehouse," Harold said, "is in my safe at home." Dolores laid her cards face down, one at a time, the way her mother had laid out a funeral tea. "It was in your safe, Harold, until Thursday. Then it was in the coat of Mr Bramley, who fell down the Dudley steps with his neck at a funny angle. You wore that coat to the wake." She tapped the felt. "Unless you'd like to explain how a dead man came to be holding a deed."

He reached for his lapel. She had the pistol out before his fingers arrived, black and cold as a dare, resting beside an ashtray shaped like a grinning skull. "Sit down, Harold. Nobody gets shot in a respectable establishment." She was not, in truth, certain of that. Judging by the barman's slow retreat towards the bottles, neither was he.

"You'll be sorry for this," Harold said. Dolores swept the pot towards her: the deed, a brass button, his silver cigarette case. "Sugar, I haven't felt sorry since the Coventry fire, and it's done wonders for my nerves." She pocketed the ace of spades, lit a cigarette off the barman's match and let the smoke curl upward like a devil's tail that had never once been asked to behave.