Sometimes, during a night of drunken debauchery, you can wake up with a not-so-great tattoo on your chest that is, how do you say? Ah yes, not work friendly. As unfortunate as your decision making skills might be in those moments of spontaneity, you probably* have a sound enough mind to get it fixed by an artist who actually knows what their doing.
The key word here being probably*.
These people, not so much. Not only did they get shitty $5 hepatitis stamps in someone's dirty kitchen, they then went back and blasted over the tattoo by someone who may as well be a blind baby wielding a chainsaw. That's to say, the cover-ups are butchered beyond all repair.
Hopefully these bode an important message: you buy cheaply, you pay dearly.