User Proposes Restaurant Featuring 60-Day Aged Excrement

Business Plan: 60-Day Aged Excrement and Kids' Menu

This article details a business proposal circulating in one forum for a restaurant whose signature product is excrement aged over 60 days in an amphora, allowing it to "acquire all the flavor and aroma." It arrives with a complete pitch structure: market study, product, pricing, partnerships, and even a children's menu. The signatory assures that the project "would be profitable" and that there is "much demand for this product." The joke, however, is long. The packaging is identical to that of any real business presentation.

What the Menu Includes and Pricing

The proposal promises to sell the product "in all types of formats and textures" at popular prices, seeking a chef capable of marinating, freeze-drying, and macerating it with skill. Among the alliances is a collaboration agreed upon with a gastronomic streaming channel for the opening day: a 4 kg ingestion challenge and a photo shoot in the studio, beverages—with included deconstructed foam reduction—and a children's menu with toys for the kids. The entire menu, read through, functions as an accumulation exercise: each new addition scrupulously adheres to the format of a hospitality dossier.

Why the Parody Mimics a Pitch Format

The real interest lies there. The piece doesn't stay in scatology; it copies the rhetoric of entrepreneurship—market study, demand affirmed by the signatory, scalability through formats, agreements with content creators—and stretches it to its limit. Beneath that surface, the text is indistinguishable from hundreds of presentations seeking capital. Some read it as a mockery of the feverish search for funding for anything. Others dismiss it as coarse humor without depth. Both readings coexist, and neither is closed off.

How Long Will the Joke Last?

The announcement asks for inspiration regarding a name and boasts of demand without providing a single figure on market, costs, or average ticket price. The joke sustains itself as long as the absurdity holds up; the problem arises when the reader tries to separate the parody from an authentic business plan. And that's where everything stalls: the difference between the joke and a certain real entrepreneurship is not in the product, but in who signs it.