“Tattoos are pretty easy, actually,” the Prisoner says, admiring his arms. He traces his fingers up and down some of the lines. “They use this drill thing, it sounds like a dentist’s drill, and it moves a needle up and down really fast. Depending on where you go. Some places have faster needles than others.” He traces a tattoo that was obviously not from a professional. It is jagged, wobbly, the lines uneven. “And in prison, it’s different, of course.” The image on this tattoo isn’t even clear. “But most of these I got on the outside.”
“The ink is in the needle, right?”
“Yeah. The needle presses the ink into your skin with each puncture. But I’m talking really fast puncture marks – like fifty or maybe even a thousand punctures a minute. I don’t know. Maybe even more. Depends on the machi
