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I tattooed Jack Grealish on a girl's bikini line... And three hours later I walked out of my fucking job. 🤯 Yeah. That sentence sounds insane. My name's Tom. I'm a tattoo artist in Manchester. I've been tattooing for almost nine years. I've tattooed exes' names. Dead pets. Shit quotes. Matching tattoos after a first date. Some nutter once asked me to tattoo his own face on his thigh. So I genuinely thought nothing could surprise me anymore. Until Chloe walked into the studio. She looked completely normal. Jeans. Oversized hoodie. Coffee in hand. She sits down and says: "I need you to tattoo Jack Grealish right here." Then she points to her bikini line. I just stared at her. "Wait." She started laughing. "You heard me." "Jack Grealish?" "Yeah." "Like... the footballer, Jack Grealish?" "Yeah, Tom." "And you want HIS FACE down there?" She almost spat out her coffee. "Small. Don't make it weird." Too late. It was already weird. I asked the obvious question. "Why the hell are you doing this?" And that's when she told me the story. Three nights earlier, Chloe had messaged her mate, Liam, because she needed cash. Not life-changing money. About £2,500. Car repairs. Overdue insurance. A credit card bill she'd been ignoring. Liam tells her: "I'm not lending you anything just yet." Then he sends her a link. Chloe immediately replies: "What the fuck is this?" Grealish Games. She thought he was taking the piss. Because, apparently, Jack Grealish had found yet another place to pop up in her life. Telly. YouTube. Socials. Adverts. Brands. And now, apparently, her bloody phone. Liam says to her: "Give it a go first." She replies: "No chance." So Liam makes it interesting. He says: "If you turn £20 into more than £2,500 before Friday, you get a ridiculous Jack Grealish tattoo." Chloe: "No." Liam: "I'll pay for the ink." Still no. Then he adds: "If you lose the £20, I'll send you the £2,500 anyway." Now she's listen
