Let me set the stage for you; it was roughly 10 or so years ago, I was in high school back in Oregon, and Halloween had just ended. My mom, being my mom, began perusing the local stores in search of discounted Halloween products. For whatever reason that year, there were "Halloween Carrots" for sale. AKA some poor marketing move of packaging bags of baby carrots, with cartoon carrots dressed in Halloween costumes printed on the bag, in the hopes of cashing in on the holiday merch. These bags of baby carrots also contained temporary tattoos of said costumed carrots that graced the outer packaging. Not so shockingly - they didn't sell well, and with Halloween over, there was no reason to keep them stocked, which resulted in deeply discounted bags of baby carrots. (If I recall correctly, they were 10 cents a bag!) At the time there were only 9 of us Jones kids, and with that many school lunches to pack and snacks to make, my mom walked out of the Fred Meyer with what felt like more bags of baby carrots than the average family consumes a year. 

(Thomas, Hailey + Kenny)

     I helped my mom unload and put away her treasures - some went into the fridge, some the freezer, and one bag was opened up right then and there for some after school munching. It was upon opening the bag that I discovered the tattoos. We all got a good laugh at the ridiculousness of a carrot in costume that was deemed acceptable to be in tattoo form and carried on with our evening. It wasn't until later, when I was bored and looking for things to do that I had a brilliant idea. I rummaged through the kitchen junk drawer in search of the stack of 5 tattoos that had accompanied our carrots and took them out. Everyone knows that when you apply a temporary tattoo, you remove the film, stick the design face down to your skin and hold a wet wash cloth to it for 15 seconds until the design sticks. But, what if I took off the film and drenched the tattoo with water? Would it be enough to apply it to skin? I decided to test my theory and wait in ambush for an unsuspecting sibling. I waited around a corner, water droplets silently dripping from the tattoo in my hand. One of my younger brothers was approaching, as he got closer I felt the anticipation bubbling in my throat. Not wanting to just slap my brother and run, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind as I slapped a tattoo across the back of his neck, "THE TATTOO BANDIT!" I ran away laughing at the startled look I had been given. Looking down at the wet piece of paper where a once costumed Frankenstein carrot had resided, I knew I had done it. I'd hacked the system. 

     Now, you have to understand, if you are in a big family and decide to start a prank war, or in my case, the "Tattoo Bandit," you'll need to be prepared for reciprication. Luckily, prevention was one of my specialties. I ran to the kitchen and cut open every bag of Halloween carrots my mom had bought, emptying them off their hidden gems. Panic filled the house as realization dawned on Austin about what just happened. Just as I suspected, a few of the kids ran to the kitchen, in search for tattoo amo. Big mistake. I was hidden in the pantry, newly dampened tattoos cradled in my hands. I sprung out and screamed, "THE TATTOO BANDIT!" and ran away to the sound of surprised, wet, siblings.

(Rough sketch of what the tattoos looked like)

     This carried on into the evening when I succeeded in tattooing every one of my siblings. The older kids got the brunt of it and had carrots tattooed in places like the back of their necks and face. I was nicer to the little ones and did arms and legs, and Maddy, the baby at the time got her tattoo on the back of her hand. With crying kids everywhere and a bewildered mom I ceased fire and took up a wash cloth to help scrub my victims. Only these must've been some industrial strength tattoos because the design wouldn't budge. My playful attitude turned to panic as I only succeeded in turning Austin's neck red. Sensing the urgency at which I was scrubbing, my finally-calmed-down siblings began the steady climb back to hysteria as the tattoos wouldn't. come. off. I called my parents in for back up and we googled all the ways to get the tattoos off. After a night of scrubbing we had only succeeded in distorting the tattoos. Whoops. My poor siblings had to go to school the next day with costumed carrots tattooed to their bodies.

     The Tattoo Bandit went into hiding after that night, hoarding away the remaining tattoos left over from the packages. Every once in awhile she'd emerge and claim a victim, but never to the extent of that first massacre.