Trent: The Overlord of Ink & Bad Decisions

Born in the dirt of Fort Worth and forged in the high-altitude chaos of Flagstaff since ’91, Trent is the undisputed Overlord of the Ink. He’s been clutching a pencil since he was five years old, which means he has nearly forty years of artistic mileage on his soul—most of which was spent drawing things his teachers probably should have reported him for.

Trent is a Virgo who thinks astrology is a load of hot garbage, though his obsessive-compulsive need for "perfect lines" suggests the stars might be mocking him anyway. A certified motor-head, he’s spent his life winning trophies for black oval-window Bugs and custom builds, proving he’s been winning at life since before most of you were old enough to shave.

Once and only once named an "Outstanding (Auto) Student," he further honed his life’s attitude plowing metric tons of snow around and bad drivers around Northern Arizona, skiing off cliffs and into bars, driving slot canyons where demons fear to tread, and entertaining any and all willing to listen with true tales of close encounters, questionable life choices and human fallibility.

He doesn’t care about your feelings, but he cares deeply about your font choice and ability to appreciate stark sarcasm and a good IPA. He’s the visionary of the chaos you are about to receive. You’re welcome.

Sheila: The Keeper of Keys & Impulse Control

If Trent is the engine of Jones Bros Deviant Designs, Sheila is the brakes, the steering wheel, and the person making sure the car isn’t actually stolen property. Engaging with Trent’s artistic "vision" since their engagement in 2000, Sheila realized early on that if someone didn’t learn how to balance a checkbook, the IRS would eventually come for the crayons.

Officially co-founding the chaos in 2019, Sheila’s primary motivation was simple: Liability. She saw the "Bad Decisions" coming from a mile away and stepped in to ensure that when the boys got in trouble, they’d at least have a legal defense and a paper trail.

As the "Mom of the Company," her days are spent managing the two things artists lack most: mealtime and impulse control. While Trent is obsessing over the curve of a line, Sheila is the logistics wizard who knows exactly where he left his favorite pencil, his keys, and his dignity. Her superpower isn't just crunching numbers—it’s the executive "Big Business Decision" of cutting off Trent’s access to the bank account for the safety of the realm. She’s the one cooking rabbit stew on Easter Sunday.

She has zero time for your "artistic temperament" and even less time for Cryptids. If it doesn't exist on a spreadsheet or a tax return, Sheila doesn’t want to hear about it. Her office door is a fortress with a strict entry policy: unless you are bleeding, her boss, or bearing cake, turn around.

When the high-altitude madness of Flagstaff settles, you can find her decompressing with a glass of wine, a plate of sushi, and a detailed plan for world domination. She’s the only person on the planet who can put the artists’ ADD in check, and while the boys are worried about fonts, Sheila is worried about the only thing that keeps the lights on: Profit.

You’re welcome for the fact that your order actually shipped. That was her.

Jonathan: The Architect of the Hustle

Every deviant empire needs a guy who can bridge the gap between a "cool idea" and "actual reality," and Jonathan is that bridge. A Flagstaff fixture for nearly two decades, he’s spent eighteen years breathing thin mountain air and figuring out how to make companies grow—whether that’s non-profits, restaurants, yachts in Hawaii, or e-commerce empires for artists who can’t find their own bank cards.

Jonathan is the marketing mastermind who looked at the Jones Bros chaos and said, "We can sell this." While the others are busy arguing over fonts or checking the locks on the bank account, Jonathan is the one syncing 100+ product variants, maneuvering videography equipment like a cinematic surgeon, and ensuring the digital presence doesn't suck.

He’s a man of specific, high-stakes tastes. He’ll help you draft a bulletproof grant for a non-profit in the morning, sell your 1961 GMC K1500 in the afternoon, and build 30 hyper-targeted digital ads by sunset. He’s the only person in the building who knows the difference between the right high-altitude grass seed and the proper way to overhaul a company’s entire business development effort.

He doesn't just manage the brand; he builds the world it lives in. He’s the guy who realized there was a universe of potential in taking this brand digital, the guy who decided Flagstaff needed a Music and Entertainment Coalition, and the guy who ensures that if you’re launching a massive e-commerce empire, every asset is synced and ready to roll.

He’s not just a consultant; he’s the Fixer. If the website is live, the metadata is clean, and the vision actually makes sense to the public, Jonathan was there. He probably did it all while drinking a coffee and wondering how the plants are doing in the garden.