Name’s Red Stone.
Private Investigator for hire.

I don’t tail cheaters or look through your trash. I chase something tougher, the pretty layout that leaves your wallet empty.

Most nights it’s just me, a squeaky chair, and a stack of well-meaning “marketing masterpieces” begging for clues. My clients? Brand folks like you. Smart. Strategic. Tired of watching good offers die in broad daylight. If I do my job right, we’ll drag the truth into the light and give your message a chance to earn its keep.

So let’s get to work.

Case file #1:
The Discount that Disappeared.

First folder on the pile. A postcard straight from the printer, corners still crisp. Heavy stock. Glossy finish. Somebody’s budget feeling fancy.

Headline up top: “Breathe Easy This Spring!” Nice enough. Below that, a smiling tech giving a thumbs-up next to a cartoon leaf. Cute.

But the hero — $59 Tune-Up Special — is hiding in a corner, squeezed between photo borders and a dogpile of trust badges. True story, wrong star.

I lean back, half-close my eyes. My old Squint Test never lies. Blur your eyes, and if the deal disappears, so will your sale.

Gone.

I run my finger along the edges. Three fonts elbowing each other for space. A coupon graphic overlapping the phone number. A QR code off on vacation, nowhere near the action.

No chance this offer survives the mailbox.

I reach for my pen and circle the real suspect: Hierarchy Neglect.

Fix?

Drag the deal to the top. Make it bold. Let it breathe. White space is cheap rent with high return. Slide the “family-owned since forever” line back to where it belongs. Nice to know, but not why they pick up the phone.

QR code? Pull it close to the CTA, tight and tidy. When things belong together, they live together. Keeps the customer’s eye from playing hide and seek.

I snap the folder shut.

One down. Next!

Case File #2:
The Billboard Blur

This one’s on the west side of the highway, somewhere between Exit 14 and your next coffee stop. Big bright smiles beaming down a family of four, a swirl of colors in the background, logo tucked politely in the corner.

I run my old pull-away trick. Hold it up. Wait Two beats. Then pull it down. What sticks?

A swirl of green. Maybe the grin. Not the message. Not the name. Not the thing that earns a search later when the driver gets where they’re going.

Too much noise. No main thought. Drivers don’t read essays at 70 miles per hour. They grab one idea, maybe two, then they ask Siri to do the rest.

I scribble a note: A billboard ain’t a brochure. It’s a two-second handshake.

The Fix?

One clear headline. Five words that earn a glance. Logo big enough to Google later. Family photo if it sells the vibe, but lose the swirl. Nobody pulls over to read a phone number. Nobody types in a web address at a red light.

People will search the name if you give them one worth remembering.

I clip the pull-away shot to my file folder. Two down.

Case File #3:
The Silent Digital Ad

This next file is a six-second pre-roll video as that wastes time nobody has. The kind that rolls before your customer even knows what they’re watching.

First second: a big logo, proud and lonely. Then a bright, empty living room. White walls. Open window. Soft guitar hums along like background filler.

At second four, the hero finally shows. Fresh paint rolling on. Nice color. Nice brush. Too late.

I run my Mute Test. Volume down, eyes up. No sound, no script, just pictures. All I see is a blank room with a logo stamp. Could be real estate. Could be furniture. Could be anything.

Hierarchy crime right there. When time’s tight, your hero can’t wait in the wings. It needs to kick down the door.

The Fix?

Open with the brush, the roll, the color splash. Let the paint sell itself. Let the logo ride shotgun in the corner where it belongs, then sign off at the end like a firm handshake.

Need words? Put ‘em on screen. Captions don’t nap when the sound’s off. First-second real estate is gold. Use it or lose it.

File closed. One more ghost on my desk tonight.

Case File #4:
The Shelf Ghost in the Shampoo Aisle

I wheel my cart into Aisle 9. Shampoo alley. Bright bottles lined up like trophies, all screaming they’ll fix split ends by Tuesday. Shoppers on this stretch run on auto-pilot. They grab the usual and drift on.

Our suspect tonight? A cardboard display jammed between two rows of fan favorites. Somebody paid good money for it. Problem is, it never got the memo on hierarchy.
Time for the 10-5-1 Test.

Ten feet
Should see a single brand block, one word that pops. Instead, it’s a circus with taglines, starbursts, glamour shots of hair in mid-flip. All mashed together into white noise. Nothing sharp enough to stop the autopilot wheels from rolling by.

Five feet
Say the shopper’s list drags her closer. Now the noise sharpens. Taglines, features, BOGO offers, more hair promises, all the same size, and same weight. The eye bounces but never lands. No cue that says this one’s for you. The shopper shrugs, grabs the same bottle as last time. Habit wins.

One foot
The moment of truth. Up close, you’d better have a hook like a neckhanger coupon dangling off the bottle, a peel-off review badge, something that says pick me up. But here? Nothing but a QR code that looks like more work, not a solution. Dead on arrival.

Fix?

Ten feet: Brand first. Bold block, big benefit, easy to spot.

Five feet: Clear way-finders; hair type, shine, curl power, all in neat icons or copy chunks.

One foot: Make ‘em touch it. Use neckhanger coupons, bright offers, peel-off perks that start the switch from “maybe” to “basket.”

Get it right and you steal a shopper from autopilot. Get it wrong and your fancy cardboard stays invisible.

I shut the folder. Four cases, same story. Good ideas, lost in the shuffle.

Case Closed

I lean back, pour a splash of cheap whiskey over melting ice. Neon hums outside the blinds. Another night of pretty campaigns that never learned how to guide an eye where it needs to go.

Hierarchy’s not fancy. It’s not trendy. It’s just how you make sure the right thing gets seen first, so the wallet opens second.

Next time you’re staring at a piece that should convert but doesn’t, slide it under my door. No questions. No judgments. First clue’s on the house.

Name’s Red Stone. P.I.

Now, close the door behind you. This glass won’t finish itself.