It's true. I'm an ass! I cannot deny it; I derive a great pleasure screwing with people. I will screw with people any chance I get, and as Professor Badger, I can get away with almost anything. As the Professor, I have learned that you can make something "true" and "real" by simply stating it with authority. This skill was put to good use on many occasions at the tattoo show. Not only did I make up a few details about the camel spiders, not only did I lie boldly about the huge typo on our sign.. (It was done deliberately in homage to Mr. P.T. Barnum I told them) but worse, I allowed an assumption to be perceived as truth.

If you remember this showing was at a tattoo convention, you will have an idea where this story is going.

The event brought us a decent crowd, but this time we had a few "friends" you know the type, likes to hang out, and talk, talk a lot, then talk some more, usually without a basic grasp of what is going on in the real world. One "friend" in particular did a great job of bringing back his friends to see the wonders. He would stay a while, chat a bit, and then head back out only to return moments later with more people in tow. At each visit he seemed to find something new to interest him, but he kept coming back to one perfect little artifact. A fetal deformed skull was the object of his fascination, something that seemed to interest him more than anything else we had on display. On his perhaps sixth visit, he brought with him a new friend, a friend with a camera. In and of itself there was nothing special about this as I encourage photos, but this one man had a special request, he wanted to know if he could have the glass dome removed for a better photo.

Being that the Professor is an accommodating guy, I removed the dome. After a few photos, and some more conversation between the two, I had another request; they wanted to take the precious artifact out for better lighting. They wanted to take it back to his booth.

His booth? It hit me like a ton of bricks, his TATTOO booth. The friend of a friend, I soon learned was the "friend's" tattoo artist. As it turns out our friend really liked the little two-faced skull, liked it so much that he wanted it tattooed on his body, a lifelong indelible tribute to the poor soul, so deformed and odd.

I wondered if our friend had taken a moment to question the authenticity of the relic, would I tell him that it came to our collection from a doctor's estate sale in Charleston South Carolina. would I assure him of its pedigree. Our new friend never asked! He did not need to be bothered with the history.

I guess the answer to the un-asked question is "Yeah, it was about 5 months gestation, and it never had a chance. we do know that the doctor's family had it since the late 1800's ".. I would have to say that now, now that the Ink has been injected by a million little pricks beneath the skin.

This is the time you can call me an ass, Its OK I don't mind, I earned it, it's a badge I wear with pride.

I know that I should have taken a moment to tell our new "friend" that this precious, priceless artifact of a medical oddity was in fact a fake. However, it was such a good fake, a fake that I spent hours sculpting, and casting (and making available to anyone with the budget for one) this little fake was a favorite on mine too, but for different reasons. This little gem, or dare I say a copy of it, sits in Tellers (of Penn & fame) personal collection. This was one of my first attempts at gaff making, and although I still have plenty to learn, I think it is damn good. good enough to fool the layperson. And I did fool our friend. and it did fool his friend the tattoo artist.

Looking back at it now still thrills me. My mind is racing, should I tell him before he gets his ink. It would be the right and honest thing to do, but he did love it. almost as much as I do, so why not let him honor it in his own way.

I am an ass, I'm darn good at justifying shady actions, and now it seems like I did an almost noble thing, not shattering his allusions. I allowed him to take a little something home, a lifelong tribute that will outlive his mere memory of the $3 Museum of Curiosities, This man is marked (pun intended) for life. Along with indelible Ink on his wrist in ghastly red and green, this man has earned free admission to the Museum for life. And I ask you all, if you happen across a friend of the show with a tattoo of my little freaks, say nothing, smile, and let him in for free. He deserves it !

Scott Bonelli
Eight Corner Globe!

aka Prof. Badger ( .. Happy to be a 56.1 miler .. )