The Scientific Journal
Greetings and salutations, readers. You have picked up my, Rohthion’s, Scientific Journal, in which I shall attempt to educate all your rather jellylike brains. I hope that, by this journal, Neopia as a whole may become more knowledgeable in everything scientific, though it is a lost hope that anyone may reach my level of expertise. Again, welcome.
The purpose of this first journal will be to discuss, ironically enough, jelly. Besides being the same consistency of many of your cerebrums, this strange substance is said not to exist. Complete idiocy, in my opinion (and, as this happens to be my scientific journal, my opinion is the only one that counts). Jelly does exist. It’s on your plates, in your homes, and crammed into your Safety Deposit Boxes by the dozen, for goodness’ sake. Many pets are fed this common delicacy every day by their rather cheap owners, and there are numerous jelly-made or -filled school supplies, furniture items, and other various objects. However, as the location, and in fact very existence, of the source of this substance is unknown, these doubters go on in their simplistic and uneducated ways, virtually unchallenged. I challenge you, skeptics. (I would blow a raspberry now, but that’s very immature, so just imagine, if you can, that I have.) It is there. Open your eyes, you doubters.
Expanding on the theory of Jelly World. Some claim that there is, somewhere in undiscovered Neopia, a land made completely and wholly of jelly. Others claim there is no such thing as Jelly World, despite jelly’s abundance in civilized Neopia. Yet others are unsure, and a fourth party thinks the whole mess is completely absurd and couldn’t care less about any of the rubbish the other three parties come up with. Despite the approach you care to take on the matter, scientific research has largely avoided the raging debate over Jelly World, so I can’t really provide any statistics, and, even if I could, your unscientific mind probably wouldn’t care much to hear them. So, I myself happen to be in that fourth category. Until the Central Scientific Research Department of Neopia (CSRDN) decides to undergo a search and investigation of said mythical world, I really have no interest in arguing over it.
But back to the original topic. Jelly is a gelatinous substance, and, through my diligent research, I can confirm that it miraculously weighs the same when whole and half-eaten. It can be found commonly throughout Neopia, and, as I explained above, is the cause of much debate over an unconfirmed land which has caused more than one poor soul to go mad or be abducted by meepits. There are many different types of the stuff, one of which is rumored to change a pet’s color.
This jelly would be the Glowing Jelly, and this particular type of jelly seems to be higher in price than the rest.
Cheap owners can often be seen stuffing their gorged pets with radioactive substance in an attempt to make their pet glow, instead of simply buying the Paint Brush. Yes, it is radioactive. I’ve taken it to my lab, risking life and limb from its potential harm, and tested it. Its particles put out dangerous alpha radiation, which contributes to the faint glow that can be seen by even your pitiful eyes. I’m actually surprised that this cruelty hasn’t been reported earlier. Although, seeing the average Neopian’s IQ, this may not be surprising at all.
Pets that are regularly exposed to this threat are being harmed. The Haunted Woods, the Lost Desert, Faerieland, Maraqua – none are safe from this threat. Sneak into your owner’s deposit boxes, pets. Throw away this dangerous material. Burn it. No, actually, don’t do that. You’re likely to set off a reaction and blow half the city to smithereens with your lack of scientific knowledge. Toss it out your window, bring it to your local garbage collector, rid Neopia of this menace! Beware! (You’re all welcome for the warning, I’m sure. All in a normal day’s work.)
Jelly is available in furniture form as well, a notion which may entertain the average-minded (here, meaning rather dull) pet for a good number of hours. Various furniture items are available, although not recommended. They leave syrupy spots all over the carpet and the temptation to eat the thing is greatly overpowering. (Really. Peabody had me, a noble scientific investigator, up all night getting the stickiness out. My research project was eaten for dinner, too.) Because of these obvious downsides, I wonder why anyone ever thought to make furniture items out of jelly. The one place to put jelly furniture is in a jelly room, although then you have the problem of having a whole sticky room, instead of just sticky carpets and furniture. These rooms may be desirable for jelly pets or petpets, but then the problem of the pet getting the entire house sticky persists. So, in short, I don’t really see a point to anything jelly-related that’s supposed to be inside the house. It just doesn’t make sense.
I’d like to add, as a special treat at the end of this issue of the Journal, an interview with someone simply crazed about Jelly World. Crazed, I repeat. This individual is known as Number Five, and resides in Darigan Citadel’s prison, cheerfully whacking various objects with his stick and shouting about the existence of aforementioned world. I include here the exact transcript of the talk I recorded in an attempt to communicate with him. As he is mad, much of it is rubbish, but possibly you can amass a few facts from the babblings (however, I very much doubt it).
Rohthion (R): (footsteps on stone) Begin recording. Master Vex has graciously allowed me to enter the prisoner Number Five’s cell. I hope I can attain some decent information for my future article. (click, creak) Yes, hello, eh, Mister Number Five?
Number Five (NF): JELLY WORLD!! (sound of wood hitting stone)
R: That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you know anything useful about it?
NF: AHAHAHA. JELLY WORLD EXISTS! FULL OF JELLY! (more stick-bashing)
R: That is the theory, yes. Many people believe this, and many others do not. What is your view on the matter?
NF: JELLY jelly jelly. AAHAHAhahaha! JELLY WORLD!!
R: Er, quite. Do you believe that Jelly World exists?
NF: EXISTS! Exists exists exists! Jelly!!
R: ... Alright. Do you have any theories on where this world might be located? How it came into existence?
NF: Jelly World... Made by jelly! Nothing but jelly! (shifting sound on stone, clattering sound of wood on stone) Jelly in Jelly World!! AAAHAhahahaha!!
R: Very nice. Now, if you will replace me on the floor, we can carry on. (thump) Thank you. My shoulders have no desire to leave their sockets. What caused your, erm, rather firm belief in Jelly World?
NF: Jelly World! Jelly! Jelly jelly jelly! Jelly belief!
R: Jelly? I suppose it is plausible that the existence of jelly could cause a belief in Jelly World. Do you have anything else to say on the matter?
NF: JELLY! JELLY WORLD!! JELLY WORLD!! (stick banging)
R: Alright. Thank you. I must depart, no--stop. No, get off of me. Stop waving that stick at me! Put me down! Guards!!
(sounds of echoing footsteps, scuffling, clattering, and shouts fill the recording for several minutes)
R: (breathing a little more heavily than normal) Well. That was... An exclusive interview with Number Five of the Darigan Citadel. End recording.
My attempts at communication with Number Five were, frankly, a disappointment, as I gained very little in the way of information, nothing in the way of facts, and quite a few bruises in my escape from the crazed Lupe. Even so, you readers may be able to glean a few crumbs of information from this transcript. I doubt it, but have decided to keep the transcription in this article anyway.
That about wraps it up for all things jelly-related. Thank you for reading, my friend (or not; I really don’t know exactly who you are, and don’t really feel the inclination to set up a surveillance unit in the tree in your backyard to find out). Safe experiments to you, and remember to keep your radioactive materials in the correct container.