He got his own face tattooed on his face.
The likeness was incredible - you could have sworn you were looking at the real thing.
People commented on it all the time.
"You'd never know he'd had it done" they'd say. "It must have cost him an arm and leg to get someone that good," they'd go.
It really was uncanny. The only problem he had was that it was just one face - a picture not versatile the real thing. He had decided to have his face tattooed whilst smiling and as the years passed he felt it was the right decision. Whilst the skin and muscles under his face would contort as he laughed or frowned or thought or gurned his face would continue to show the portrait of a smiling man.
"Always show the world your best face!" he'd laugh.
As he aged his body withered and sagged but his face stayed exactly the same as the day he'd had the ink put in.
"He doesn't look a day over 25!" they would say in wonder at the nursing home.
He tried to use his youthful looks to attract younger women but was always dissapointed when they ran from his aged body.
"A real freak show down there" they would say to each other and laugh.
This hurt him deeply for he was a sensitive man, but people mistook his tears for tears of joy and why wouldn't they when he was smiling so?
As he reaches his final days, he came to the conclusion his folly was in not getting his body tattooed onto his body.
He whiles away his days cursing the naivety of his youth, smiling always as he does.
