Psssscht.

Ok, so let me just throw up some scenarios:

1. You're drunk or high or just having a common-or-garden manic episode, and you're at a party, and your mouth is opening and closing and words are streaming out, words which form sentences like: 'My dad is so hot' or 'And then we spent two hours trying to hook the condom out' or 'There's nothing like the feel of hot jam on bare skin'. And you want, more than anything, to SHUT THE FUCK UP, but there's a beast inside you more powerful than the fear of mere humilation and ostracisation, and it's only when you finally catch yourself saying 'Two girls one cup: haven't you always been curious?' that you summon up the strength to bite off your own tongue and spit in the punch.

2. Your friend is drunk or high or just having a common-or-garden manic episode, and you're at a party and she is saying all of the above things, and you watch the horror spread across her face, and she's begging you with her eyes: Stop me! Stop me! Kill me now!

3. The person sitting next to you is on his eighth consecutive attempt to explain the power and spirituality of the Lost finalé, and you are this close to slapping him through the face and screaming: 'Everybody's dead = biggest fucking loser cop-out with the possible exception of It Was All A Dream, so get over it you GNOME!'.

4. You've just made it to the front of the queue at the bank, when the guy behind you says, 'I'm sorry, I'm in a huge rush and I just have to make a quick cash deposit'. And because you're a nice guy, and don't think thirty seconds is worth getting upset about, you go 'Sure, be my guest'. After which he dumps a shoebox of pennies onto the counter, and quips: 'I have no idea how much is here, but I've been saving them up for a year!'.

If you recognise any of these scenarios, here is the answer:

This, my friends, is a tranquiliser gun. All you need is a good, fleshy site, either in the leg or arm of your own body or that of a friend/stranger, and all your problems will be over for 45 minutes to an hour. You wouldn't even need to turn your head. Someone getting up your ire in the next seat? Don't even put that magazine down! Just reach into your coat, pull out your Little Helper, and psssscht ... naptime, mofo. Kid having a tantrum in the middle of the movie? No need to stop eating that delicious popcorn! Just slide Little Helper out of your garter belt, and psssscht ... naptime, mofo. Can't believe that you're mumbling drunk and coming onto your supervisor by unsuccessfully attempting to eat a pork pie suggestively while his wife watches on? Take aim at your own thigh, and psssscht ... naptime, mofo.

Extensive research (aka Google) tells me that an essential social tool like this one goes for around $500. I presume you can't just buy one on the internet without a license or something, which is sad, because I know my life is vastly impoverished without one.