In a twist that has marine biologists scratching their heads and zookeepers updating their resumes, an octopus named Inky has pulled off the heist of the century. Last seen slithering out of his tank at the local aquarium, Inky didn't just escape – he reinvented himself as the kingpin of an underground ink empire. Sources close to the cephalopod confirm that he's now running a thriving tattoo parlor catering exclusively to sea creatures, where the motto is 'Ink or Swim.'

The daring escape unfolded under the cover of night, with Inky unscrewing the lid of his enclosure using nothing but his tentacles and a borrowed screwdriver from a forgetful janitor. Eyewitnesses – mostly sleepy goldfish – report that Inky left a note saying, 'Gone fishing for bigger dreams.' Aquarium officials were left red-faced, admitting that they underestimated the intelligence of their eight-legged inmate. 'We thought he was just playing with his toys,' said one keeper, 'turns out he was plotting world domination.'

Deep in the ocean's shadowy depths, Inky's tattoo parlor, aptly named 'Tentacle Tats,' has become the hottest spot for aquatic body art. From sharks getting tribal patterns to seahorses opting for minimalist designs, Inky's services are in high demand. His secret? Natural ink production, of course. 'Why buy synthetic when you can go organic?' Inky quipped in an exclusive interview conducted via Morse code bubbles.

But it's not all smooth sailing for this entrepreneurial octopus. Rival gangs of cuttlefish have been trying to muscle in on his territory, leading to some ink-slinging showdowns that would make any Western movie jealous. Inky's response? Expanding his business to include piercing services for pufferfish and custom camouflage for chameleonic clients. 'Adapt or die,' he says, channeling his inner Darwin.

Environmentalists are divided on Inky's escapades. Some hail him as a symbol of animal liberation, while others worry about the ecological impact of widespread tattooing in the ocean. 'What if every fish starts getting inked? We'll have a sea of regrets,' warned one activist. Meanwhile, aquarium attendance has plummeted, with visitors demanding more 'escape-proof' exhibits or at least octopi with ankle monitors.

In a bold move, Inky has announced plans for franchising. 'Tentacle Tats: Coming to a reef near you,' reads the promotional seaweed. Investors are lining up, from wealthy whales to penny-pinching prawns. If this keeps up, Inky might just ink his way into the Fortune 500 – or at least the Kelp 50.

As the world watches this cephalopod saga unfold, one thing is clear: never underestimate an octopus with ambition. Inky's story is a reminder that sometimes, the real treasures aren't in chests but in the unbridled potential of the deep blue sea. And if you're ever in need of a tattoo, just remember – the best artists have eight arms and a heart of ink.