Ohayo is the hangover cure from heaven. What will stop us from drinking ourselves into oblivion now?

With a product like this available, where's the incentive to put down the pint?

Unlimited quantities of alcohol were served at the party. File photo (Rex Features)

How would you react if someone told you that a magic potion has been invented which will allow you to go to a party, get blind drunk, make overtly sexual comments to someone else’s spouse, undress yourself publicly, devise an offensive chant about said undressing, and wake up the next day with a clear head and clean conscience? Well, they’d be lying about the conscience – your naked inappropriateness is now circulating on social media and your linguistic creativity has alienated most of the people you used to call friends. But if you down one small bottle of a special elixir before you collapse onto your bed, you may well wake up without a hangover.

Sanam Petri and Douglas Wolfson have invented a drink called “Ohayo”, meaning “Good morning” in Japanese. It aims to give you a cheerful start to the day, regardless of how many Bacardi cokes you may have chugged the night before. Packed full of B vitamins, electrolytes and natural ingredients such as milk thistle, the mystic liquid is supposed to put the good stuff back into your system before you fall asleep. The vitamins work on reducing headaches and fatigue, potassium aims to maintain a normal blood pressure and the milk thistle is meant to boost liver activity. If all these functions really work, then this discovery may come as something of a revolution to heavy drinkers. Burning the candle at both ends suddenly seems much more attractive without the throbbing headache that plagues mornings at work; Friday nights can now involve innumerable tequila shots and you’ll still be on form for Saturday.

But does it actually work? Is there really an effective way to prise off the sharp claws of the hangover gremlin that doesn’t involve tactical chundering, downing twelve pints of water or simply abstaining? And is it morally right to offer up something which threatens to take away the only incentive we really have not to run riot every night, including Tuesdays? Taxing high-percentage alcohol is all very well and good, but if we’ve found the holy grail of hangover cures, then don’t expect anyone in Britain to be sober for a very, very long time.

According to tester Ben Foreman of student magazine The Tab – because of course - the drink is effective; he said that thanks ‘Ohayo’ he was back to his normal morning activities without any of the hangover experiences he deserved. “A dry throat was all that separated the morning from any other, and a quick pint of water sorted that out moments later,” he reported after giving it a go. Elsewhere, testers from Bar magazine, that trusted outlet for all things alcoholic, reported the same success.

This little 150ml bottle of hangover relief costs a mere £3.60. The producers have also factored in the knowledge that at the crucial moment when consumption is required, customers may be feeling a little forgetful. To target this inevitability they also provide a fluorescent sticker which can be stuck to the mirror, wardrobe, toilet bowl, or dog basket, to remind the intoxicated individual that a healthy drink awaits them. Now isn’t that kind?

Often the most useful of medicines are the most disgusting – we even feel more convinced of their healing properties by the fact that they make us wretch and shiver – the illogical theory goes ‘if it’s this revolting then it must work.’ So one might expect this innovative potion to taste of armpits and sulphur. But, back to Ben Foreman again: “It tasted like camping.” This statement is rather open to interpretation – an interpretation that will, no doubt, heavily depend on your attitude towards camping. Mine is vague indifference. Perhaps a combination of grass, condensation, and baked beans is what he meant. Waking up with these lingering flavours on one’s palette, ready for a ‘good morning’ that’s endurable despite last night’s debauched activity, kind of seems worth it – although I dread to think what will happen to the world’s populace if it proves that this potion really does work for everybody.