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“Who the hell is this guy?”
Neopowell is the slang term for that strange burning sensation you get after a wild night in Easton. It's also the mathematical formula for summoning Stormtroopers. Mostly, though, Neopowell is the fake name of a pussy-ass Bristolian hiding behind a computer screen and writing insipid parody in the hope someone might finally love him.
Hah! Had you going there, didn't I? That whole vulnerable thing worked, eh? Well, calm down, put your clothes back on, I'm actually a totally awesome guy and you should be proud that I've seen you naked. So, you want to know about the Neopowell, do you? Join the queue, laddie, join the queue. There should be a bit of space just behind those three Playboy models. Their lovely curves should just about hide you from my sight as well, so everyone wins! Please remember that by agreeing to take the Neopowell Mystery Tour you sacrifice all rights to life, liberty, limbs and happiness and you understand that everything stated here may be a horse-cart full of bollocks. Got that? Good. Just sign here. Oh, that bit is for your bank details, just go ahead and fill it in as well, we don't have much time.
Hold on, I have to take this call.
(Hello? Huh? ...Jimbo Wales, I never thought I'd hear from you again. Good, good, really good. Oh. Oh really? That's...I gotta be honest, Jimmy boy, that's pretty pathetic after everything that went down. Of course I'm not bitter, who do you think I am, Schlafly? Hah! Yeah, true that. Sorry Jim...Jimbo...Jimmy! Stop sobbing a minute and listen the fuck up. No I'm not coming back. I don't care, it's the principal. No. No, I'm not interested, not even if you double that figure and give me exclusive use of your wife. Calm down, I was kidding. No. No, I found a new place, a new encyclopedia. Yeah. Uncyclo- language! Jesus, Jimmy, where did you learn those words? Oh, yeah, I did write that article. Sorry, old friend, but they like my style of, uhh, "editing" here. I'm staying. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, it's not you, it's me. I have...commitment issues. Allright? Look, if you keep crying I'm just hanging up. Damnit, Jimbo, man up. Allright, hanging up now. Hanging up. Bye.)
Sorry about that, buddy, just an...old friend getting in touch. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Now, how about we begin the tour?
edit Care & attention
edit Feeding your Neopowell
Hey! You! Look over here! Don't make me chuck one of those things you see in that (--->) picture at you! When your Neopowell gets hungry you have to feed it. That's whenever it gets hungry, with none of your sissy whining about how you "have no money" or "can't walk" or are "scared of food because you were molested by some food once." Cut that crap out and fetch some...ohh, I don't know, it all looks so tempting...I'll have the pan-fried pork steak with wild mushroom sauce, thank you, with a side of saute potatoes, herbed, and a glass of white wine, south American for preference. And tell me about your cheese board, please.
edit Watering your Neopowell
This is easy, buddy, you just have to remember the magic word: booze! Gotta love that booze, don't you? Once you've got that word in your head, the details are a bit superfluous, but let's go through it all just for funsies. Provided you're not some pathetic shit-monkey, and you're of legal age, you should be able to procure some cider quite easily. This is the preferred drink of the Neopowell. You might have a problem if you're American, but don't give up, otherwise I'll piss on your shoes. The best kind of cider for this is light and reasonably sweet, but your Neopowell also enjoys the really strong Westcountry stuff that's brewed by dudes in forests at midnight, the kind that's so thick you could plunge a spoon into and eat it as jelly.
Beer is also good, on the understanding that beer means real ale, not that watered-down lager shite. Incidentally, if you are American and unable to find cider, beer is most definitely NOT an acceptable alternative because you fuckers have no idea how to pour a proper pint.
edit Sleeping habits
Unlike dogs, horses and Christians, the Neopowell is not a tame pet and will wander wherever the hell it pleases. If it isn't in your immediate sight, then that probably means it doesn't want to be bothered and you should instead do something productive, like arguing with your neighbours or starting that comedy T-shirt company you and your friends talked about. If you absolutely, positively must locate your Neopowell, and I warn you this should only be done in the gravest of circumstances, you should probably try the local pub, bookshop or your mother's place. If you live with your mother then check upstairs.
When at home your Neopowell will want somewhere comfortable to reside, preferably a sofa, which it will not want to share with you. In fact the Neopowell will not want to share the sofa with anyone who isn't a hot girl or someone interesting to talk to (neither of these criteria will include you). The sofa should be within reaching distance of a laptop, computer or similar device that has full access to the internet, with absolutely no child-locks or filters. Every bit as important is access to a well-stocked library containing many fine books. Should you fail to provide these things, your Neopowell will either leave outright or leave shortly after drinking all your booze and stealing your money.
edit What can your Neopowell do for you?
Hah, well, the question should really be what can't your Neopowell do for you. Your Neopowell can dance, sing, ride the unicycle (advanced models only) and cook a pretty decent bacon sandwich. If that doesn't appeal to you, then your Neopowell can at the very least pick up hot
dudes chicks CHICKS I MEANT CHICKS with ease, now doesn't that sound like a party waiting to happen, buddy?
You don't look convinced. Tell you what, if you take proper care of your Neopowell it'll produce hilarious articles for you, like this one on the film Black Swan, which has lesbians in it or something weird, I don't know. Or if you like video games here's a great one on Final Fantasy XIII. You know there's, like, absolutely nothing explorable in that game? What a load of arse-gravy, eh? You can even learn from your Neopowell, with humourous and insightful articles like this one on how to write a novel like those professional beehatches do it. That last one was even featured on the Howto front page, for which I received thirty shekels as a reward and promptly spent it on an elephant.
If you're confused about relationships (and let's face it, who isn't?) then you might want to check out this article on one of the most confusing statements of all time. You could also go here and either enjoy the biting social commentary or simply laugh about ugly people. The world is your clam. Or, if you're Scottish, it's your heroin and swear-off. As you're starting to see, your Neopowell has some serious journalistic skills going on. Proof of this comes in the form of this article on the most badass fictional journalism of all goddamn time.
edit MOAR NOTES