I have a business idea

I have a busi­ness idea. I think it will work because there are a lot of peo­ple who would want to buy this.

Nine out of every ten con­ver­sa­tions with A begin like that. Noth­ing much out of the ordi­nary com­ing from peo­ple of this ilk, as there are always men with busi­ness ideas who need to tell other men who would lis­ten. Except with A, the busi­ness idea is likely to be so far fetched, and so orig­i­nal it either deserves to be lis­tened to for being orig­i­nal or it deserves to be dis­missed imme­di­ately for being far fetched.

You buy a boat. You buy guns. You hire mer­ce­nar­ies, sol­diers of for­tune, ex-Special Forces troops. You sell berths on your boat to rich, per­verted tourists. You take the boat to remote islands, inhab­ited by back­ward tribes. You land on the islands. You get the mer­ce­nar­ies to be kwai lan and antag­o­nize the natives to the point where they will retal­i­ate vio­lently. Then they get back on the boat. Then you take the boat to the other side of the island and wait till night­fall and for the natives to come look for your boat. And when they come, the tourists can use the guns and kill them.

I think there is a mar­ket for it. What do you think?

It never mat­ters what I think. The con­ver­sa­tion then mean­ders into the murkier waters of the eter­nally unre­solved issues about my love life before flow­ing back into clearer, sim­pler chan­nels of how busi­ness is going, and end­ing with a plat­i­tude or twenty about how doing busi­ness is always like that one lah.