Peanut Butter Baron

I have friends in Australia. They live there, I mean, not just visiting. Family friends who emigrated years ago and are now citizens. They love their adopted country and with good reason, I've been to Australia and it's a pretty cool place. But there's one thing...
   They can't get peanut butter candy there. The kids who were born here in America miss the bad-for-you-but-oh-so-good empty calories that is a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, for example. I've sent them care packages before, I need to send another one.
   My sister hosted a German exchange student last year, Lara, who could eat her weight in peanut butter if you let her. In an interesting coincidence, she can't get peanut butter in Germany, or Reese's Peanut Butter cups either. So my sister has sent her the big-ass Costco jars of PB to brighten the dreary Teutonic winter.
   But the fact that people in Australia and Germany can't get simple junk food we take for granted here seems like it might be a business opportunity. There has to be a bigger market than one former exchange student in Germany and four adults in Australia, there's got to be all kinds of expats and visitors and what have you all across this globe just drooling for the chance to get their chocolate into some peanut butter that they can't find in their own country.
   And I could be the guy to give it to them. The Tony Montana* of peanut butter, if you will. Or the Nino Brown**, if you prefer. I could be the Godfather of peanut butter product imports, spreading out my creamy favors like Jif on white bread. I would be - literally - the candy man.
   I'd build my empire like Andrew Carnegie, one crushed soul at a time, until I amassed wealth and power far outstripping that of small third-world nations. And as I gained more and more money and influence I'd realize how terribly shallow and unfulfilling my ambitions had been, and I would end up alone and friendless in an echoing mansion built with the profits from my peanut butter empire. My last words would be 'green machine' mumbled through lips almost plastered shut with peanut butter.
   Yeah... I got it all planned out. First you get the peanut butter, then you get the power, then you get the women...



* from Scarface, the one with Al Pacino not the one with Paul Muni
** from New Jack City, with Wesley Snipes, who is in prison for tax evasion now