ludienyberg

We now return to "Best Ink": The tattoo artists have just had another challenge. The challenge was body painting some hot models. Now they're sitting in some lounge room drinking coffe, listening to the producers telling them to start a fight about something completely irrelevant and as believable as possible make it escalate until someone throws the hands up and leaves the room. The poorly acted fight begins. Producer: "Action!" Mickey: "Oh my God, dude. Body painting is not my thing, dawg." Liza: "Oh my God. Will you stop complaining? A tattoo-artist has to be able to do that. Oh my God." Mickey: "Hey dude, what's your problem?" Liza: "You're so fucking, wait, can I say fuck? Will you beep it?" Producer: "We'll beep it! Keep going!" Liza: "Eh... Oh my God, you're so fucking close minded." Mickey: "Whatever, dude. I'm outta here." Mickey throws his hands up and leaves the room.

 

Elimination!!! All the tatto artists gather for the judges decision. Everybody is wearing short sleeve-shirts because they want to show off their arm tattoos. I mean, why wouldn't they? The more tattoos you have, the cooler you are, everybody knows that. Whatever. The judges, having the most tattoos in the room which make them sooo much more badass than the competitors, make their decision. Fat Judge: "Chriscilla, you didn't blow my socks off. That is my catchphrase, right?" Producer: "Yes! Fuck!" Fat Judge: "OK! Well, you're out!"

 

Ludie