Tattoo Nightmare - The Conclusion
he nervous little boy and the ghastly impact of seeing my repulsive tattooed
right wrist , are only memories. Oh public record, it�s me Tom again, this
time coming to you with more answers than questions.
It�s now easy to understand, that while us normies were growing older, the tats were growing younger. Really nothing to worry about, I still have a normal 80 year life span. I just age from 0 to 40, then 40 to 0. Now, I clearly see why the tat kids were enjoying the summer as if they were retired. They, were retired! Wow, 7th grade tats flirting like no tomorrow, because, there would be no tomorrow. After a few years of aging younger, the tats surely would lose all interest in the opposite sex. How about the way the tats invariably tested superior to us without even studying? Ofcourse they studied, only it was during their first (normie) cycle of 40 years. Indeed, their age was their wisdom. How did that football team disappear? Those tats didn�t disappear, they just aged younger. My normie friends and I moved up to the new school or 10th grade. The tats obviously, moved down to the 9th grade. Public record, how na�ve was I not to understand all of this? No need to now tell you, why the tat football players cherished their youth more? Questions like normies working their butts off are now easily understood. All that work was for tat retirement. Lastly, how could administrators or parents punish tat school children? They were the seniors of our society, almost too young, to live!
Okay, so those are the effortless answers and I promise I�ll give you more, but first may I offer a question? Why do some normies understand us tats, while others (like the little boy), only fear us? You can recall that I was one of the normies who feared the tats. Jealousy, rage, and more for sure but then again, my parents respected the tats. I�ll say again, oh public record, why do some normies, seem to understand?
Harder answers forth coming, but first, allow me to pose the questions. Where did my parents and grandparents go? Also, what happens to me when I become younger than my children? Will I be an effective enforcer and role model? Those answers arrived in the form of, the Assigner. Yes, the same Assigner from twenty years ago who assigned me my wife. I suppose he (and others in the same position) keep the two casts in check and coexisting in harmony. After all, someone has to do the work while the others, only enjoy retirement. Public record, let me continue because time is growing shorter for me, each day. I hear, that by age 7, tats lose their wits, writing skills, and more so let me move on. From 39, that leaves me about 32 years to explain this all to future generations.
After my 39th birthday (for the second time) walk and my return trip home, I was met by my Assigner who, re-assigned me. See, I would not see my grandparents advancing to babyhood and beyond, nor my parents going through school a second time. I would also never have to worry about my kids becoming older than me. My reassignment was a new life, with a new beginning, and a new family, in a new location. You probably already can guess that all in my new household, were tats. Ground rules were that my new wife and I would live as a retired couple from age 39 to 18. Our only real responsibilities would be to raise (or is that lower) our 2 new kids from 18 to 0. After 18, I would again be reassigned to live as a child with new parents. I don�t know it all, but am beginning to understand how the system works.
Now, let me introduce you to my new wife Nancy. A pretty, long hair brunette who is kind yet behind an awkward half smile. She is also 39, bright in intelligence, but shy in personality. During our initial assignment meeting, I pulled the truth out of her. At age 37, she was diagnosed with breast cancer which seemed to worsen each day. Why, oh public record, when I paid all of my dues, looking forward to retirement, am I given this additional burden? The Assigner told us to see the Tat Doc for answers. After an initial exam, the Tat Doc surmised that Nancy and I, just did not understand. When I pestered him about Nancy�s care, the Tat Doc bellowed with overwhelming laughter. This hit me quite odd as I wasn�t sure how much time Nancy had left to live. The Tat Doc saw me fuming and told Nancy and I to relax. He was to give us, another answer. He told me, �Tom, how�s your arthritic knee?� I replied that it feels a little better each day. Again with a laugh the Tat Doc said, �see, your not getting older anymore, your getting younger. Ten years from now your arthritis will be gone�. I still wanted answers for Nancy and asked him about her. He was really amused by my innocence, so while holding his side, he said, �just do nothing, in 3 years when Nancy becomes younger than 37, the cancer will be to young to exist, it will just, disappear. Let me give her something for pain in the meantime but please, remember you guys aren�t getting older, your aging younger!� We left the Tat Doc�s office with new life, with new desires, and ready to attack our world, for a second time.
Ofcourse, that includes putting teens through school again, confrontations with normies who don�t understand, and knowing that our years are becoming fewer and fewer. All in all, those years were precious. My wife�s cancer went away, our kids really didn�t have to study, and the money we labored so hard for during our first cycle, was ample for us during this cycle. No arthritis anymore either, and my birthday walks are becoming easier with a swifter pace. Oh public record, to be young again, to be in my prime again, to be in love again, what more can I ask? My kids are babies now, unable to care for themselves and Nancy and I know, that when they are 6 months old, we will have to turn them over to the Assigners. That gets us out of another question. What happens when one turns zero? I don�t know, I don�t understand, but I will not get a chance to see what happens. The Assigners, hold all those answers.
Time flies when your having fun. Kissing Nancy bye, was one of most emotional sensations, I had ever been through. Reassignment was here, as I was introduced to my new parents and new 14 year old sister, Stephanie. Today, at 18, was my high school graduation. In front of normies I never knew, all just seemed a little out of place. I didn�t work at all for this honor but still stood in front of my (somewhat) proud family, to receive my diploma. Oh public record, time is short.
Girls, girls, girls! They are all wild. I don�t remember being this popular as a normie, but these tat girls just can�t keep their hands off of me. Now 16, with the few years my tat friend and I have left, we must enjoy each day to the fullest. Thank God, we have no studying or work responsibilities. Oh public record, allow me to record another milestone. This past year was my last in high school. Girls were plentiful and without all of the labors of a normie, the summer recess was more fun than ever. I miss my high school years already, and my sister Stephanie, 14 when I met her, is only 12 now. Boys are only a little interested in her now, and carry one-tenth of the infatuation of only a few years ago.
The summer nearly over, my parents had Stephanie and I out shopping for new clothes. You can imagine that while aging younger each year, we require smaller and smaller clothing. The normies usually stood clear of us tats and in their very busy, hurry-up world, they were always oblivious. Today was just one of those days where we bumped into a normie gang who just didn�t understand. They had fear in their eyes and didn�t give my family and I, any courtesy or respect. One normie kept taunting me, like he was some real big jerk. Would you believe me, if I told you, that the normies actually challenged my tat friends and I, to a game of football?
On the very first play, one normie tried to disguise a running play right, cross us up, then run left. Been there, done that! I met the poor normie behind the line of scrimmage before he ever knew what hit him. All the normies seemed surprised that us tats seemed to know all of their plays, in advance. After three-quarters, the normies were all but out of life. You could see their enthusiasm fade and that their spirits were low. Us tats were as up as ever. This was our last pass through, and with only a few years remaining, our energy level was at the top of it�s game. Time was running out in the game (or is that in life) and my friends and I were breaking into cheers. Our tats girls, extremely proud and flirtatious, joined us in a jubilant celebration of our shut out victory. The game was a great conclusion to high school, summer, and before moving down to, junior high school.
Always fun, always games. Everyday is a party, oh public record. I�m eleven now and into a new phase in life. My tat friends and I are having a ball every day, although I don�t find the tat girls as attractive as they once were. Frankly, I�d rather hang out with the boys. Poor Stephanie, 7 years young and already regressing too young. Her vocabulary is not what it once was and her reading/writing skills are almost all gone. A few short years ago, she was the pure definition of the most mature, poster girl. Now, she�s almost a baby. I�ll continue later, my friends just came over and I want to join them in a game of handball.
The big event is here and for the record may I add that it�s been fun. Today is my 7th birthday party and I�m told that I will hardly care about writing and other things as I reach my, golden years. My sister is only 3 now and almost ready to go into diapers. Her crying keeps me awake and her dependence on everyone is hard to appreciate. She falls often, and is spoon fed when needed. As she ages to the beyond, atleast she will have no pains, and sadly, no memories. I�m sorry I will be too young to understand saying goodbye to her when she becomes 6 months old, so I say a premature bye now and thank her for always being, my big sister. Oh public record, goodbye to you also and thanks for always being there for me.
Fourteen years have come and gone. I�m a 7 year old normie now and if I see a young tat passing me in the street, I will bow my head with proper courtesy and respect, because I now, understand. I�m back. Again!
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