A warning on the machine in brash day-glo boasts that this potent elixir should be used with extreme caution.
And while the Evo is far too red blooded to need such wimpish artificial enticements, the same warning applies to the car as the offerings which have stolen space from the condom machine.
I've been driving one of the most extreme versions of the latest car to take on Mitsubishi's legendary Lancer Evolution boot badge.
Now I'm feeling just a little sea sick and my passenger is only just losing the green tinge which led him to ask me to test the Evo's emergency stop capabilities before he reconfigured the car's interior colour scheme with last night's supper.
It's not that that there's an inadequacy issue with the Lancer Evolution IX FQ-340 - it roughly means this ninth version of the Evo is flipping quick and boasts a whopping 340bhp of raw power.
It's just that British roads simply aren't wide enough, long enough or flat enough to make a journey in this Tarmac-melting monster feel like anything more subtle than sitting in a washing machine during the spin cycle.
If you're unfamiliar with the looks of the Evo, it's the car which sends your front windows into a frenzy of reverberation every time Kevin passes playing his old Technotronic tapes. It boasts a tail fin which would make Jaws blush, the kind of brutal angles which would give Pythagoras a funny turn and - usually - a tiny little bloke with tattoos and a shaved head sitting in the driving seat.
Such is their appeal on the chav market that it's difficult to see how any of them ever hit the road new, the majority of the ones you see being driven on British roads clearly having been sourced three owners in with a full service history. For its part, the £33,000 FQ-340 is such a fine council estate carriage that it wouldn't be too big a surprise to see the names Wayne and Coleen emblazoned on a green visor strip.
As standard, it gets leather and alcantara Recaro front seats, SmartNav, a leather-wrapped Momo steering wheel and high performance windscreen wipers.
Somewhat incongruously, the Evo is also a car which comes with five seats, although you're hardly likely to ever see one being loaded skip-like at the local Aldi. Cruisin' around a supermarket car park after closing, maybe, but never doing something so mundane as the family shop.
But to give the Evo its due, true fans of extreme autos see through the extreme outer shell and brutal body stylings.
What they covet is the same thing which left me feeling seasick - and means that the Evo won't be popping a couple of pounds into a little white machine in the gents any time soon. It's about the kind of supercar power in a (relatively) inexpensive package which makes the idea of ever pushing the accelerator all the way to the floor nothing but a dream reserved for track days and bank jobs.
The suspension is soooo hard that every undulation provides another firm dose of massage to the blister where your backside used to be.
Petrol consumption - around 21.6mpg - isn't even a good idea at a time when Britain is heading towards being a net oil importer and fuel is pushing £1 a litre.
But, in summing up, I suppose my sentiments towards the Evo are similar to feelings towards a quick blast from a pheromone spray.
I can't imagine why I'd ever use either of them, but it's still nice to know that they are there if I change my mind.
