And what makes Fargo a destination game in the winter. Hell what makes Fargo a destination game anytime of the year?Quote:
Originally Posted by NI4NI
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And what makes Fargo a destination game in the winter. Hell what makes Fargo a destination game anytime of the year?Quote:
Originally Posted by NI4NI
Chub's Pub, obviously.Quote:
Originally Posted by 56BISON73
You make it an experience. Celebrate the cold. Market it. Remember when Minneapolistan hosted the Superbowl?Quote:
Originally Posted by 56BISON73
Ask an AI of your choice what is the worst that could happen if you let a PE firm take over running your kid's lemonade stand.
In the end, the one thing that all the AI's should agree on is that you end up losing your house and all the equity you put in it, but only after a long, painful series of events that involves useless, be-vested twats milling around in your front yard screeching at each other about how successful they are like the spawn of a peacock demon and a Real Housewife, a mountain of rotting lemon peels and industrial waste appearing in your front yard, Lemmonadeᵀᴹ-related poisonings somehow getting pinned on you, and your kid disappearing one day to be replaced by a knockoff Yamasaki HP50-20-NX100 manufactured in North Korea out of washing machine parts that Russian soldiers looted from the Chernobyl site.
And that's one of the better case scenarios.
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You missed that the maintenance of the stand and equipment will stop happening. (Direct personal experience.)Quote:
Originally Posted by tony
You know, I consulted for a PE firm here in Mpls for four years right at the end of my career. I never once saw any of them screeching at each other. Not one time.Quote:
Originally Posted by tony
So I did ask the clanker. Here is what ChatGPT said:
Worst case:
Quote:
That’s a fun thought experiment — let’s walk it out. If a private equity (PE) firm took over your child’s lemonade stand, the “worst-case” scenario might look like this:
1. Over-leveraging the stand.
They borrow money to “grow aggressively,” saddling the stand with debt it can’t realistically pay back on 50˘ cups of lemonade.
2. Aggressive cost-cutting.
Fresh lemons are swapped for lemon-flavored powder, cups get flimsier, sugar gets cut with corn syrup. Quality tanks, but margins temporarily improve.
3. Over-expansion.
Suddenly, there are ten stands on your block, each charging franchise fees. Growth looks good on paper, but the neighborhood market for lemonade saturates quickly.
4. Employee squeeze.
If your child hired friends to help, they might get their “wages” slashed (no more free cookies or Pokémon cards), while management bonuses increase.
5. Brand hollowing.
What started as a cute neighborhood venture loses its charm. Instead of “Billy’s Lemonade,” it becomes “CitrusCorp™, a portfolio company of ThirstQuench Capital.” The neighbors stop buying because it feels soulless.
6. Exit strategy chaos.
The PE firm sells the stand (and its debt) to another buyer. When the bubble pops, your kid is left with no stand, no goodwill, and maybe even a bill for “consulting services.”
So in short: the stand could go from a fun summer project to a debt-laden corporate husk, stripped for parts and reputation ruined — all before recess is over.
and it offered a best case scenario for balance:
Quote:
Alright — let’s imagine the best-case version of a private equity takeover of your kid’s lemonade stand:
1. Capital infusion.
The PE firm gives your child a big cash boost to upgrade equipment: shiny new stand, professional juicers, branded cups, maybe even a Square reader for card payments.
2. Scaling smartly.
They help expand to multiple locations — soccer fields, parks, farmers’ markets — capturing untapped lemonade demand. Suddenly, it’s not just a stand, it’s a chain.
3. Operational efficiency.
Bulk lemon purchases from Costco, optimized sugar-to-water ratios, and logistics that ensure every stand is stocked on time. Costs go down, profits go up.
4. Professionalization.
Your child learns about marketing, finance, and supply chains. There’s a logo, a slogan, a social media campaign (“#WhenLifeGivesYouLemons”). It becomes a neighborhood brand.
5. Talent pipeline.
Neighborhood kids are hired, trained, and maybe even given performance bonuses. It looks great on college applications later.
6. Exit jackpot.
The PE firm positions the lemonade empire for acquisition by Nestlé or Coca-Cola. Your child walks away with a life-changing payout — say, enough to cover college tuition plus a head start on retirement.
So, in the rosiest outcome: your kid starts with a folding table and a pitcher, and ends up as a teen lemonade mogul with a crash course in business.
Ask it to name two nfl teams that don't end in the letter S eh.Quote:
Originally Posted by GreenfieldBison
browser is smoking...Quote:
Originally Posted by scottietohottie
You got catch them at, say, a Rangers hockey games or Financial District-adjacent restaurant, suffering from severe cases of imposter syndrome. Disclaimer: I have a friend who is a retired PE firm executive - I don't know what he was like back in his early days and have never worked with him, but he's pretty awesome now - James Bond could take lessons.Quote:
Originally Posted by GreenfieldBison
Also, I hadn't known about that Finance Bro apparel site until today, but it is really amusing. My favorite product so far: Bitcoin-scented candles.