Friday brought another thirty sales, the slow but steady trickle continuing. Theo prepped, served, cleaned, the rhythm becoming slightly more familiar, less panic-inducing. He kept glancing at the clock, waiting for 2 PM.
Sarah walked in exactly on time, looking around the clean but basic shop with open curiosity. She spotted Theo behind the counter, wearing a plain black apron over his shirt. Her eyes widened in comical shock.
"Wait… Theo? You're working here?" Then, comprehension dawned. "Oh my god. You didn't just consult for this place… you bought it, didn't you?!"
Theo offered a small, wry smile. "Guilty as charged. Took ownership last week. Under new management, as the sign says."
Sarah stared at him, then around the shop again, a whirlwind of expressions crossing her face, surprise, amusement, confusion. "But… Maria's? Seriously? Theo, no offense, but this place has the worst reputation online lately! People actively warn friends away! Jono, the previous owner… total disaster zone from what I heard."
"Heard the same," Theo admitted calmly. "Which is why I got it cheap. And why I believe there's an opportunity. Here," he gestured towards the rotisserie, pulling out a perfectly cooked chicken quarter and quickly plating it with a fresh batch of golden, crispy chips. "On the house. Tell me if the rumours are still true."
Sarah hesitated for only a second before her curiosity won out. She took the offered fork, speared a piece of chicken, examined it, then took a bite. Her reaction mirrored the couple from Wednesday, initial caution, then widening eyes, then an audible sound of pure pleasure. "Okay… what?" She took another bite, faster this time. "This is… this is incredible! Juicy, perfectly seasoned… And these chips!" She popped one in her mouth. "Crispy, fluffy… Okay, how?! This is literally the opposite of every recent review!"
"New management," Theo repeated simply, letting the food speak for itself. "Using better ingredients," (a small lie, the ingredients were standard, the tools were enhanced), "paying attention to detail."
Sarah was already pulling out her phone, snapping pictures of the food. "Right, okay, new plan," she declared, slipping effortlessly into problem-solver mode. "Forget consulting fees, I'm doing this for the good of chicken lovers everywhere! This place needs emergency digital PR!"
For the next hour, Theo watched, fascinated, as Sarah worked her magic. She wasn't just posting pictures, she was crafting narratives. She targeted local foodie Facebook groups, using specific keywords and geotags. She created visually appealing Instagram stories, using filters that made the chicken look even more succulent, adding polls ("Best charcoal chicken comeback? ??"). She found the negative Instagram post Theo’s disappointed customer had mentioned and added a targeted comment ("Under new management now & it's AMAZING! You HAVE to try it again!"). She explained to Theo how timing posts for peak engagement, using relevant local hashtags (#SuburbanEats, #BestChickenLocal), and encouraging user interaction could manipulate the platform algorithms to maximize visibility within their specific neighbourhood demographic. It was a masterclass in guerrilla digital marketing, executed with blinding speed and intuitive skill.
"Okay," she finally said, putting her phone down. "That should start generating some buzz. Might take a day or two for the algorithms to pick it up properly, but it's a start. You need consistent posting, maybe a proper Instagram account for the shop…" She trailed off, looking at him expectantly.
"Sarah, that was… amazing," Theo said, genuinely impressed. "Thank you. Seriously. I owe you."
"Consider it a down payment on future amazing chicken," she grinned. "Just keep cooking like this, and people will come back." She gathered her things. "Gotta run back to the Meta salt mines. But hey, let me know how it goes! And seriously, Theo… buying a chicken shop? Unexpected!" She winked and walked out, leaving Theo feeling a strange mix of gratitude and calculation. Her skills were undeniable.
Week 19 - Saturday
Saturday. Sarah's intervention, combined perhaps with the initial positive reviews and word of mouth starting to gain traction, had an immediate effect. From the moment Theo opened, there was a steady stream of customers. Not a flood, but consistent. People mentioned seeing posts online, friends recommending it again. He worked non-stop, prepping, cooking, packing, taking orders. The +1 enhanced tools performed flawlessly, churning out perfectly cooked chicken and chips despite the increased demand, but Theo was the bottleneck. He barely had time to wipe down counters, let alone handle the increasing number of phone-in orders he hadn't anticipated. By the end of the day, he’d sold sixty orders. Double the previous day. Exhausting, but exhilarating. The shop was turning around, faster than he’d projected. But he was already hitting his personal capacity limit.
Week 19 - Sunday
Sunday was mayhem. Absolute, unadulterated chaos. It seemed every positive review, every social media post, every word-of-mouth recommendation all came at once. From the moment he opened, there was a line stretching out the door. The phone rang non-stop. Online ordering pings (he’d hastily enabled a basic platform Jono had half-set up) chimed incessantly.
Theo moved like a machine possessed. His world shrank to the counter, the rotisserie, the fryer, the packing station. Chickens came off the spit, were expertly portioned (his +1 knife making swift work), boxed with perfectly fried chips (+1 fryer keeping up effortlessly), salt sprinkled, lid closed, order number yelled. Take cash, give change, swipe card (+1 POS running smoothly), answer phone, bag order, repeat. He was sweating profusely despite the air conditioning, his muscles screaming from the repetitive motion, his voice hoarse. Customers were mostly patient, buoyed by the delicious smell filling the street and the positive buzz, but the wait times grew longer.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Around 6 PM, disaster struck. He went to the walk-in (+1 fridge keeping things perfectly chilled) to grab more prepped chickens. Empty. He’d completely sold out of the eighty birds he’d prepped, hours before closing time. He had potatoes left, but no main course. He had to go out front, face the still-substantial queue, and apologize profusely. "Sorry folks! Sold out of chicken for tonight! Unbelievable response! Chips still available!"
Groans of disappointment rippled through the line. Some people left immediately, grumbling. Others just ordered chips. He ended the day having served ninety chicken orders before selling out, plus countless chip-only orders afterwards. He could have easily sold over a hundred, maybe more, if he'd had the stock.
Late Sunday night. Theo stood alone in the wreckage of his small shop. Empty chicken racks, potato peelings everywhere, grease splatters on the walls, overflowing bins. He was bone-tired, muscles aching in places he didn't know existed, smelling strongly of charcoal smoke and fryer oil. He hadn't stopped moving for nearly ten hours straight.
He leaned against the counter, surveying the scene, then looked at the final sales tally on the register. Despite the chaos, despite running out of stock, the revenue for the day was incredible, exceeding even his optimistic projections for months down the line.
He sank onto one of the cheap plastic customer chairs, the adrenaline finally draining away, leaving a deep bone-weariness. He pulled out his phone, not to check messages, but to open the simple calculator app. His mind, even exhausted, craved the concrete validation of numbers.
He punched in the week’s revenue figures, recalling the daily totals from the POS system. Wednesday's tentative $150, Thursday's $480, Friday's $480, Saturday's $960 rush, and today's $1540 mayhem before running out of stock. Grand total: $3610. Not bad for effectively four and a half days of trading from a dead start.
Then, the costs specifically for the shop this week. He'd have to refine this later, but for a quick calculation: The big initial food stock and supplies order he'd placed Tuesday night had cost around $1500 to get everything from chicken and potatoes to oil, spices, and mountains of packaging. Utilities for the week's operation? Maybe $100 for the gas and electricity guzzled by the constantly running rotisserie and fryers. And the first week's business lease payment, $700. He ignored his personal rent and living costs for this calculation – this was purely about the shop's performance.
He subtracted the estimated costs from the revenue: $3610 - $1500 - $100 - $700 = $1310.
He stared at the number. Over thirteen hundred dollars. Profit. In less than five days. From a shop people were actively avoiding two weeks ago. After covering the initial stock purchase. After paying the hefty weekly lease. It wasn't a fortune, not yet, but compared to Jono likely losing money weekly, it was staggering. And this was just the start, he realized, a surge of fierce optimism cutting through his fatigue. With proper inventory management, maybe some marketing beyond Sarah's initial blitz, a full seven days of trading... The potential felt enormous. The model didn't just work, it worked brilliantly.
The thought landed with profound certainty, cutting through the exhaustion. Tool Enhancement. It fucking works. It could overcome apathy, compensate for lack of skill, deliver consistent, high-quality results that customers recognized and valued. This rundown chicken shop, with just two key pieces of equipment enhanced as the core, though admittedly he probably enhanced anything else that caught his eye for good measure, was already proving to be a cash-generating engine.
The physical labour was brutal, yes. He couldn't sustain this pace solo for long. He absolutely needed to hire help, train them on the (now simplified, consistent) process. That was the next immediate step.
But the potential… He thought about the steady income stream this could generate once optimized with staff. Cash flow to fund bigger things. Maybe acquire another struggling business? A cafe? A bakery? Apply the same model?
And Sarah. Her marketing blitz had been the catalyst for the weekend explosion. Her skills were potent. How could he leverage that? Get her involved? The idea of partnership felt less abstract now, more like a practical necessity for growth. If he could find a venture that aligned her passions with his abilities… the possibilities felt vast.
He locked up the shop, the click of the +1 enhanced lock feeling secure, definitive. He walked home through the quiet suburban streets, exhausted but electric, his mind already churning with plans for hiring, optimizing, and scouting the next target. The climb was hard, the work gritty, but for the first time, the path towards serious wealth felt tangible, scalable, and maybe, just maybe, sustainable.
Theodore Sterling - Financial Ledger (End of Week 19)
- Starting Balance (Beginning Week 19): $18,295.00
- Income (Week 19):
- Wed Sales (20 orders @ $7.50 special): +$150.00
- Thurs Sales (Est. 30 orders @ $16 avg): +$480.00
- Fri Sales (Est. 30 orders @ $16 avg): +$480.00
- Sat Sales (Est. 60 orders @ $16 avg): +$960.00
- Sun Sales (Est. 90 chicken orders @ $16 avg + Est. $100 chip orders): +$1540.00
- Total Income: +$3610.00
- Expenses (Week 19):
- Personal Rent Paid (Week 19): -$450.00
- Personal Living Expenses (Week 19): -$500.00
- Business Lease Payment (Week 19): -$700.00
- Initial Food Stock/Supplies for Shop Opening (Est.): -$1500.00
- Shop Utilities (Est. first partial week): -$100.00
- Total Expenses: -$3250.00
- Net Change (Week 19): +$3610.00 (Income) - $3250.00 (Expenses) = +$360.00 (Updated)
- Ending Balance (End of Sunday, Week 19): $18,655.00 (Updated: $18,295.00 + $360.00 = $18,655.00)
- Assets:
- Maria's Charcoal Chicken (Business Purchase Price): $38,000.00
Status: Successful Relaunch & Initial Profitability. Completed shop prep and permanent 'Tool Enhancement' of key equipment. Reopened 'Maria's Charcoal Chicken'. Initial sales slow but positive feedback confirmed high food quality. Leveraged Sarah's marketing expertise, resulting in rapid sales increase by weekend (Sat: 60, Sun: 90+ orders before selling out). Experiment proved Tool Enhancement model highly effective. Identified solo operation as immediate bottleneck. Achieved slight profit ($360 net) in first partial week (Wed-Sun) despite significant initial stocking costs. Capital stable at ~$18.7k. Next steps: Hire staff, optimize workflow/inventory, stabilize operations, plan further investment/expansion based on Tool Enhancement model. Collaboration potential with Sarah noted.