Colour tattoo of a zombie LEGO minifigure in a blue jacket with bloody exposed ribs, on the lower leg.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Zombie LEGO minifigure on a calf

Calf · Colour · Photo

A blocky LEGO-style minifigure with a yellow face, brown hair and blue jacket stands on a black base, with its arms outstretched and its torso and one leg showing exposed ribs and bone. Red blood splatters cover the figure and pool beneath its foot. Bold dark outlines, smooth colour fills and soft shading give it a cartoon look, and the design is centred on a pale patch of skin.

Calf Zombie Blood Jacket Cartoon

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody at the car boot sale wanted the tub of loose bricks, so Dilys paid the vendor fifty pence for the lot and carried it home on the bus with her shopping bag on her knee. Most of it was grey and red, with the usual stubby yellow heads. At the bottom, under a tangle of wheels, she found a minifigure with a brown quiff and a blue jacket, one arm rigged out at an odd angle as if it had been caught halfway through a shrug.

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Her grandson Rhys was nine and had opinions. He carried the figure to the kitchen table, turned it over, and announced that it was a zombie. Dilys said it was just a man in a jacket. Rhys pointed out that a man in a jacket does not have his ribs showing, and he was right, because someone long ago had snapped the torso open and pushed the spare hand into it. Between them they spent the afternoon making it worse. They dabbed red paint from a tin of fence stain on its face, its hands and its square black feet, then left it on the back step in the drizzle to see how it would weather.

By Friday the paint had dried to a glossy brown, and the figure looked so convincingly dead that the postman stopped to ask whether it was the new tenant. Rhys wanted it on the shelf with the good models, but Dilys took it down to the corner shop and stood it on the counter beside the lottery tickets. 'Someone will want this,' she told the man at the till, who had known her since she was a girl and had never once sold anything without a receipt.

He looked at it for a long time, then at her, then at the figure again. 'It's standing up on its own,' he said. 'That's the trick, isn't it? Nobody ever tells you how it's meant to stand.' He slid a pound coin across the counter, and Dilys, who had never once sold anything at all, took it.