One sunny day this little man walked into our offices at 2737 Larimer. His name was Jerry French. Yes, yes, he was full of hot air, peddling his pretty paper and whatnot, but he had an honest smile so we humored him.

As he nervously adjusted his tie and shook people’s hands with his two clammy fingers, he talked fast about the benefits of printing on his paper. Well, as innocent and charming as that may sound, one employee was rather offended by Jerry’s sales pitch. Was it the paper cuts Jerry gave while clumsily handing over paper samples? Was it the smooth moves he was throwing out to the ladies? Was it his small demeanor?  Was it the classy tassles on his shoes? Whatever it was, later, as Jerry left the building and was innocently crossing Larimer street, a large black truck with a bowhunters association decal on the back window squealed out of the parking lot and ran over Jerry, deflating him on the spot. Flat Jerry French lay face down and lifeless on the pavement. No one spoke up to identify the murderer as the drove off into the sunset.

R.I.P. Jerry French