A slutty Tramp Stamp to let everyone know what you are!
Jon's heart skips a beat as he realizes that if she wishes for him to have a tattoo, it will be extremely hard to remove. Like the beads, this wish isn't just cosmetic.
There is a tension in the air that Jon can feel more the hear or see. Then the steady clack, clack, clack of Sarah walking towards the bar fills the air. His stomach ties up in a knot and he wonders if he should go ahead and try his luck with overpowering her before she can make another wish, but right before he leaps out from behind the bar, the clicking of heels stops, and it's clear that Sarah's begun to pace back the other way. Jon lets out a sigh, and he's somewhat calmed for the moment... but Sarah is far from done.
"Now I'm sure that if I just wish for you to all have slutty Tramp Stamps, you'll just wear something to cover them up sooo...~ " She lets her words linger in the air. "I wish that you'll never be able to cover up these Tramp Stamps with clothing."
Melissa finally shouts back. Jon can hear her voice trembling, but with a stomp of her high heeled foot she shouts, "Sarah! STOP THIS! W-what are you doing? like, just because we're rivals doesn't mean you have to be some evil bitch. Just... Just wish that you'll win be the Prom Queen, and change us back!"
"You think this is just about Prom? No, I'm tired of you bitches showing me up. You pretentious witches are always trying to show me up. No, I'm going to win Prom fair and square, I just have to show the world the sluts you really are."
John can't help but roll his eyes at such an extreme narcissism, but the tension begins to build as he realizes that she's not going to change her mind about this latest wish. He bites his lip and shuts his eyes tight as he waits for the inevitable.
Sarah continues. "And just for that I'm going to make this even harder on you. I wish that each of you has a different Slutty Tramp Stamp Tattoo that gives you a fetish for whatever it looks like."
The girls all squeal as a violent tingle erupts on their lower backs. Jon bites his lip hard and scrunches up his face, but manages not to cry out and blow his cover.
Finally the prickling subsides, and with some stretching, and contorting, he manages to see his new Tramp Stamp. A bright red rose is above a dark lace pattern. The lace begins with a heart, and sprawls out into an intricate design with speckles of crimson gems throughout. His heart leaps in panic, and he begins to wonder what fetish it might have given him.
