Ari Levy is a self-described quant who ran his own $100 million hedge fund for nine years and now manages a proprietary trading company whose products change hands at the CBOE. The 36-year-old son of legendary investor Larry Levy is a board member of publicly traded taco chain Del Taco, a minority investor and board member of a nascent medical marijuana business and holds a small stake in fast-growing Half Acre Brewing.

So what's he doing buying the Wieners Circle, a 33-year-old hot dog stand in Lincoln Park best known for brash, late-night insult exchanges between its staff and drunken customers?

“It's safe to say we would not have bought it just to own a single hot dog stand in Lincoln Park with a licensing agreement in Las Vegas,” Levy said. “We see an opportunity to make this (brand) much bigger, and we're certainly looking into what we can do to take it to the next level.”

In August, Levy and four partners took over the fast-food restaurant on north Clark Street from longtime owners Larry Gold and Barry Nemerow in a deal that includes a portion of a licensing agreement for an outpost in Las Vegas. The restaurants, which serve up charred Vienna beef hot dogs, burgers and other humble fare, is famous–or, some say, infamous–for the blue improv routine that plays out nightly between customers and employees.

Featured on Conan O'Brien and the subject of its own reality series aired by TruTV in 2012, Weiners Circle has gained a national following and become an off-the-wall destination for visiting athletes, actors, comedians and other celebrities.

Levy hopes to leverage the restaurant's oddly compelling brand of hot dogs and humor into an expansion that could result in four or five more corporate-owned locations in Chicago and potentially franchise deals that could go elsewhere in the Midwest and beyond.

But because the Wieners Circle's brand of comedy is an acquired taste, it's unclear how well it will translate in other neighborhoods or metro areas, particularly because many of its top Clark Street pranksters are so long-tenured that they've got the sometimes slippery-sloped bit mastered.

Levy and his group of partners believe it can translate. (His father, Larry, is not involved with the project, “though he's a customer,” Levy said.)

“We inherited a lot of great brand attributes,” Levy said. But, he acknowledged, “the brand is not for everyone.”

Though Levy would not provide details of his plans for the brand, he said he is considering making some changes to the menu, potentially adding some items and re-imaging the brand. The original location could get a facelift, and Levy sees an opportunity to boost business during daytime hours, when invective typically isn't flying in all directions.

He's also exploring relationships he and his partners have forged with Chicago celebrities and comedians who could tailer the humor to new locations. But,he said, “at the core, it should still feel like the same experience.”

“We think there are certainly opportunities to expand the brand here, and the art of doing that will be how we can take the food to another level, make the comedy even funnier and not take the heart and soul out of it,” he said.

But how well would F-bombs, “Chocolate Milkshakes” and other language too blue to print play in the Loop or somewhere like Minneapolis? It's hard to say, but Levy thinks it's worth giving it a shot.