Former Circuit City large appliance installer John Irvin, formerly of the iron-on tattoo franchise at Virginia Center Commons, is now in the tattoo removal business.
“All these young people getting tattoos are going to need removal of the highest quality,” states Irvin, "I predict a large number of what I call 'regret removals'."
Irvin demonstrated the new removal process by rolling up his pants, revealing the battleship USS Wisconsin on the inside of his thigh that he placed there last summer with his then-patented iron-on method, which was soon discredited by the FDA.
“All these young people getting tattoos are going to need removal of the highest quality,” states Irvin, "I predict a large number of what I call 'regret removals'."
Irvin demonstrated the new removal process by rolling up his pants, revealing the battleship USS Wisconsin on the inside of his thigh that he placed there last summer with his then-patented iron-on method, which was soon discredited by the FDA.
After moistening the tattoo with an acetone-based removal agent, Irvin began the removal process with the patented manual device, vigorously scrubbing the device back and forth in a right-to-left motion, all the while suppressing his death screams while his face turned a serious shade of scarlet.
Finally, after three excruciating minutes Irvin seemed to lose interest in the process as large, flaking shards of painted scar tissue sloughed off in bloody ribbons, exposing striated raw muscle tissue underneath, almost sizzling in response to the removal process and the acetone in the removal agent. His head rolled lazily back and the remover dropped to the floor with an empty thunk.
“Give me a day or two to work the kinks out,” he gasped as he opened a bottle of isopropyl alcohol and a Morton salt shaker, apparently used in tandem to “cure” the newly-removed tattoo,. “And I hope you’ll stop by.”
