A teenage father with ‘DEVAST8’ tattooed across his face is ‘waiting for the right job offer’ after his desperate plea for work went viral – and he has revealed he will be getting the jailhouse ink lasered off.
Mark Cropp, 19, from New Zealand, took to social media on Wednesday afternoon to beg someone to look past his criminal convictions and heavily-tattooed face and give him a chance at work.
Within hours he had been inundated with job offers and said he had ‘stopped counting when he reached 45’.
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Mark ‘Devast8’ Cropp (pictured) has revealed that he has turned down 45 job offers since his story went viral

The 19-year-old (pictured) had taken to social media in frustration that his face tattoos were preventing him from finding work
But he told Daily Mail Australia he still hadn’t ‘done a day’s work’.
‘I am just waiting for the right one to come about,’ he said.
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Some of the jobs required him to have his own car – he clarified – but he will need help getting to the work site.
‘Until I get my first paycheck and get a car I won’t be able to get myself around,’ he said.
The former criminal revealed he will be getting the artwork – designed by his brother after a night of drinking home brew in jail – removed as soon as possible.

‘A week before I got out I taped a picture of my face to the inside of an envelope so my partner could see it – she was devastated – but now she likes it and can’t see me without it,’ Cropp (pictured, right) said
Man with DEVAST8 tattoo speaks about trying to get a job
‘I am just working out a date to get it taken off – which sucks because it is going to hurt,’ he said.
‘And because, you know, this tattoo means something to me and my brother did it for me so it is hard to make the decision to get rid of it.
‘But I know it is the best thing for my future – and I want to be a person my family can look to for support.’
The artwork was designed to make him ‘look tough’ when he landed in jail following a long string of violent behaviour.

This image shows Cropp (pictured) before the face tattoo which made him go viral on social media

‘And because, you know, this tattoo means something to me and my brother did it for me so it is hard to make the decision to get rid of it,’ he said

Mark and girlfriend Taneia Ruki got together a year before he was sent to prison
It was meant to be a ‘little one along the jawline,’ but the pair got carried away after drinking home brew made from fermented apples, sugar and bread.
‘I went into jail with four tattoos and I came out with a full body suit,’ he said.
But the face tattoo was the biggest shock to his family.
‘A week before I got out I taped a picture of my face to the inside of an envelope so my partner could see it – she was devastated – but now she likes it and can’t see me without it.’
DEVAST8 happens to be the 19-year-old’s nickname.


Mark Cropp (pictured) told Daily Mail Australia he is still waiting for the right job to come along

Cropp (pictured) says the face tattoo was supposed to be small but he and his brother got carried away after drinking homebrew
‘I was going through a rough patch’: Teen with DEVAST8 jail tattoo
‘I would end up devastating everyone I met or got close to.
‘They would be disappointed with something I had done or said – I was always hearing “that’s devastating”,’ he said.
But he hopes the devastating chapters of his life are over – erased along with the ink on his face.
‘I have learnt from my mistake,’ he said.
‘I still don’t think people should be judged by the tattoos on their face – but I know it will keep happening unless I do something about it.’
Before his final desperate plea on Facebook the teenager said people had ‘laughed in (his) face’ when he had asked for work.
The tattoo was drawn with a homemade gun which used a needle made from the spring of a pen and powered by a cassette player.
Plastic knives and forks are burnt to a black plastic powder and mixed with toothpaste and water to create the ink.
The teenager has been out of jail for two weeks.

Mark has also been offered laser therapy to remove the tattoo and will have his first session on Tuesday (pictured right with partner)

The New Zealander (pictured) has been out of jail for two weeks and says he has learnt from his mistake
My Husband’s ‘Business Partner’ Showed Up at Our Door and Mistook Me for the Cleaning Lady — I Decided to Play Along

When a charming stranger knocked on my door, mistaking me for the cleaning lady, I decided to play along. But what began as an amusing misunderstanding quickly unraveled into a shocking revelation.
The smell of lemon cleaner hung in the air as I scrubbed the kitchen counters. The faint hum of the dishwasher filled the quiet house.

A woman cleaning her kitchen table | Source: Pexels
Cleaning wasn’t my favorite activity, but it kept my hands busy and my mind clear. I had just tossed the sponge into the sink when the doorbell rang.
I opened the door to find a man standing there, tall and polished, with a smile that could have been pulled straight from a toothpaste commercial. He held a leather briefcase in one hand and a sleek phone in the other.

A smiling man holding his jacket | Source: Pexels
“Hello!” he said brightly. “I’m looking for Mr. Lambert. You must be the cleaning lady. Liliya, right?” He stepped forward, offering a hand. “I’m his business partner, David. Nice to meet you.”
Before I could correct him, he glanced at his watch and added, “I’ve heard so much about you from Mrs. Lambert. She showed me your picture.”

A man talking to a young woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney
My heart skipped a beat. “Mrs. Lambert?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.
“Yes! She and Greg are always such a great team,” he said with a laugh.
Mrs. Lambert? Then who am I supposed to be? The cleaning lady? My curiosity got the better of me. If he thought I was someone else, I’d play along.

A nervous suspicious woman | Source: Midjourney
“Please, come in, sir,” I said with a small bow, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. “So, you’ve known Mr. and Mrs. Lambert for a long time?”
“Oh, years,” David said, settling onto the couch. “They’re quite the pair. Always look so happy together.”
I forced a polite smile. My pulse raced as I grabbed a glass of water, needing an excuse to leave the room for a moment. Who is this Mrs. Lambert he’s talking about?

A nervous woman with a glass of water | Source: Midjourney
Back in the living room, I found David scrolling through his phone. He looked up. “You know, I have a picture of them. Let me show you.”
He passed me his phone, and my stomach dropped. There, smiling back at me, was my sister, Allison, arm in arm with Greg.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” David said.

A happy couple at a party | Source: Midjourney
I struggled to keep my composure. “When exactly was this photo taken?” I asked, my voice tight.
David didn’t notice. “Oh, about a year ago at a corporate event. Funny thing, Greg never really talked about his private life much. I thought he was single for the longest time. Then I ran into them on the street, and he introduced her as his wife.”
I swallowed hard and returned the phone to him. My ears were ringing, but David kept talking.

A man showing a photo on his phone to a woman | Source: Midjourney
“They’re such a lovely couple,” he said. “Oh, and she showed me a picture of you once. I asked her, ‘Who’s this beautiful woman?’ and she said, ‘Oh, that’s our cleaning lady.'”
My hands tightened around the glass I was holding. Cleaning lady? Is this some kind of joke?
I set the glass down and forced a smile. “You must have lots of photos of them together.”
“Absolutely! Here’s another one from the same event.” My head spun. David looked at me with concern. “Liliya, are you alright?”

A shocked woman on her couch | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath, plastering a smile on my face. “I’m fine, sir. Would you like some coffee while you wait for Mr. Lambert?”
David smiled, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. “That’d be great. Thank you.”
I walked back to the kitchen. Mrs. Lambert? My sister? What exactly is going on here?

A woman making coffee | Source: Pexels
I returned to the living room, my heart pounding but my face composed. David sat awkwardly on the couch, stirring the coffee I’d given him. He looked up and gave me a polite smile.
“David,” I began, my voice calm but firm, “we need to talk.”
His smile faltered. “Uh, sure. About what?”
I gestured to the silver-framed photo on the mantel. “Do me a favor. Take a closer look at that picture.”

A wedding photo on a shelf | Source: Midjourney
He hesitated, then picked up the frame. His brows furrowed as he studied it. “This… this is you,” he said slowly, confusion creeping into his voice.
“That’s right,” I said. “And the man standing next to me? That’s my husband. Greg Lambert.”
David blinked, his grip on the frame tightening. “Wait. What are you saying?”
I folded my hands in my lap and leaned forward. “I’m not the cleaning lady, David. I’m Mrs. Lambert. The real Mrs. Lambert.”

A serious woman in a chair | Source: Midjourney
His face went pale. He put the photo back on the mantel as if it had burned him. “I… I don’t understand. I thought…” He trailed off, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“You thought my sister, Allison, was Mrs. Lambert,” I finished for him.
He nodded, still struggling to process. “She told me… Greg introduced her as his wife. She even showed me pictures of the two of them together. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know!”

A nervous man in a chair | Source: Midjourney
I let the silence hang for a moment, watching him squirm. Finally, I asked, “David, why did you come here today?”
He hesitated, then sighed. “I came to convince Greg to sell his share of the business to me. But… it’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”

A tired man looking up | Source: Pexels
“Well, the share isn’t technically in Greg’s name,” David admitted, glancing at me nervously. “It’s under Mrs. Lambert’s name. Your name.”
“And my sister forged my signature to block the sale?” I asked, my tone sharp.
David’s eyes widened. “I… I didn’t know it was forged, but yes, she stopped the sale. I thought it was your decision.”
I laughed bitterly, hiding my anger. “It wasn’t. But thank you for confirming what I suspected.”

An angry woman | Source: Pexels
David looked as though he wanted to crawl under the coffee table. “I feel terrible about this. I didn’t mean to drag you into anything. If I’d known—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted, though my voice carried a steely edge. “This isn’t your fault. But since you’re here, let’s finalize the deal. How much are you offering for Greg’s share?”

A serious sad man in a armchair | Source: Midjourney
David blinked, startled by my sudden shift in tone. “Uh, the original offer was quite substantial, but I’m willing to go higher if it means resolving this quickly.” He named a figure that made my head spin.
I kept my face neutral, though my mind raced. “That’s acceptable. I’ll handle the paperwork. Can you have your legal team send over the documents by tomorrow?”

A serious woman looking to her side | Source: Freepik
“Yes, absolutely,” David said, nodding eagerly. “Thank you, Mrs. Lambert. I mean—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a faint smile. “Let’s just get this done.”
The next evening, Greg burst through the front door, slamming it behind him. His face was flushed with anger, his tie loosened and his jacket slung over his arm.
“What the hell did you do?!” he shouted.

A furious man | Source: Pexels
I was sitting on the couch, reading a book. I barely looked up. “Hello, Greg. Long day?”
“Don’t play games with me!” he snapped, throwing his jacket onto a chair. “You sold my share of the business! Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
I closed the book and set it on the coffee table. “I know exactly what I’ve done, Greg. I’ve solved your little problem.”

A confident woman on her couch | Source: Freepik
“My problem?” he shouted, his face turning redder by the second. “You had no right to sell that share! That’s my company, my future!”
I stood up, facing him. “Wrong. The share was in my name. And after what I learned, I decided it was time to take control.”
Greg’s bluster faltered. “What… what are you talking about?”

A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“I’m talking about Allison,” I said, my voice cold. “Your little ‘wife.’ Or did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
Greg froze, his mouth slightly open. “Listen, I can explain—”
“No,” I cut him off. “I’m done listening to your excuses. I’ve already spoken to a lawyer. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I’ll be filing for divorce.”
Greg’s jaw dropped. “Divorce? Are you serious?”

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels
“As serious as I’ve ever been,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “And since you and Allison forged my signature, I’m entitled to compensation. The sale is already finalized. David will transfer the funds to my account by the end of the week.”
Greg staggered back, collapsing into a chair. “You… you can’t do this. You’re ruining me.”
I folded my arms, staring down at him. “No, Greg. You ruined yourself.”

A disgusted woman in a green sweater | Source: Freepik
Two weeks later, I walked out of my lawyer’s office with a signed divorce agreement in hand and a newfound sense of freedom. The settlement was more than generous.
Not only did I secure my rightful share of Greg’s business sale, but I also received significant compensation for the fraud committed under my name. Justice had been served.

Signing divorce papers | Source: Pexels
I cut ties with both Greg and Allison. My lawyer ensured the fraud never escalated to court, but the legal threat was enough to shatter their carefully constructed web of lies. Greg lost his business, and as far as I knew, his relationship with Allison didn’t survive the fallout.
For days, I replayed the betrayal in my mind, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness. But as time passed, anger gave way to clarity. They had taken my trust for granted, but their deceit had shown me a strength I didn’t know I had.

A sad woman looking out of her window | Source: Pexels
Standing in my living room, I glanced at the space where Greg’s picture once sat. It was gone now, replaced by a simple vase of fresh flowers. I smiled.
This wasn’t the end of my story. It was a new beginning. And this time, I would write it on my terms.

A woman dancing in the leaves | Source: Pexels
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