Lynda, meet Amy

The door jingles like it would for any old customer, but this is not any old customer. Lynda looked upset and confused crossing the lot, but when she steps in the door and sees the naked westie modeling her shitty tats for you, she looks livid.

"Wow, Bingo, I just gotta say, last night was weird enough. I don't know what's going on here, but I think I'm done with your bullshit."

You've only been on a couple dates, but you like Lynda so far, and this is not likely the safest, smartest way to end a relationship, however casual. You have to tell her what happened. She won't believe you, of course, but you don't really believe it either, so whatever.

"It's not what it looks like..."

"What the fuck does it even look like?" Lynda's got a point. Cliche aside, you don't even know how to start explaining this.

Amy chimes in, "Are you his girlfriend?" You facepalm.

"Nope." She doesn't have to think about it.

"Well, you don't gotta get shitty about it with him okay? I's just showing him my tats." Amy's not helping. "I'm his girl ya know." Making it worse.

"Take these, asshole, we're done. Have fun with your girl."

Lynda throws the paper bag at you and storms out. Dozens of Bingo cards hit you in the face and tumble to the floor around you. You are watching Lynda's fine ass walking in tight blue jeans past the naked westie sketchbook in front of you and right out the front door when it hits you.

Amy Hoffstatler isn't any more yours than those bingo cards.

"Hey Lynda, gimme just one minute to explain, please. I ... " She stops in the doorway. "One question, why'd you bring me these?" You look down to the Bingo cards all around you.

"You left them at the Game Hall after you stormed out last night."

"Yeah, but don't they belong to the Game Hall, or the Bingo organizers?"

"What do you mean, they belong to you."

"Uh huh. Why, though?"

"Cuz they got your name on 'em. What does this have to do with some naked westie slut?!"

"Don't all Bingo cards have my name on 'em?"

"Yeah, so what? Is that a brag? Big man! All the Bingo cards in the world belong to... oh..." She blinks a few times. "Oh wait. You're right, that makes no sense at all..."

"Bingo." Finger guns. "Now, as for what that has to do with some naked westie in the front of my studio..." You recount the morning's events to Lynda. Amy just nods the whole time, confirming every detail no matter how impossible they sound to you or Lynda.

"...and that's when you got here." You pick up a card from the pile at your feet and fan the heat off your face. The room is intensely quiet and the smell of wiped-away dry erase marker wafts in as you contemplate the situation.

"Okay, so if I understand this right, you magically own anything with your name on it, but before you knew that, you were also the kind of asshole who thought it would be funny to change Ringo to Bingo before covering up this wretched bitch's tattoo?"

It's not a flattering summary, but she still hasn't left the studio, and she's kinda hit the nail on the head, so you own it. "Yeah, that's about right."

"and so now in addition to Bingo's Body Art, you are also the proud owner of one naked westie and a bunch of Bingo cards?"

You nod. "and who knows what else..."

"So she'll do whatever you tell her?"

You're not really sure, so you ask Amy directly. "You'll do anything I tell you?"

"I'm ya girl!"

Lynda continues, "so the first thing you do is have her get naked."

"No, no, I get that it looks like that, but she really did strip just to show off her tats."

"Well, crappy ink aside, she's still gotta be the best tattoo model either side of Noughuairesville Crick!" She made a joke! The tension in the room falls away and vanishes like a drunken westie's prom dress after the first slow dance. You smile and Lynda laughs.

Lynda slaps Amy firmly on the ass and asks, "So what do you wanna do with her next?"