Текст: J. Geils Band. No Anchovies Please.

This is the story of a young couple in Portland, Maine

While waiting for her husband Don
To return home from work, she reaches for a can of anchovies
As she spreads the tiny fish across a piece of lettuce
She notices a small note at the bottom of the can
Written on it is a telephone number

Curious, she dials, and is told, "Don't move, lady, we'll be right over"
Placing the phone back on the hook, she turns
To see three smartly dressed men standing in her kitchen doorway
Before she realizes what is happening to her
She is rolled tightly in long sheets of cellophane
Transported to an international airport and placed on a waiting jet-liner
All this being too much for her to comprehend, she passes out

Upon awakening, she finds herself in a strange, foreign speaking nation
'Dalas nekcihc dna tihs nekcihc neewteb
Ecnereffid eht wonk ot suineg a ekat t'nseod ti'
Alone, fearing her escape impossible
She seeks comfort in the arms of a confidential agent

With the trace of her kiss still warm upon his lips
He betrays her to the hands of three scientists
Who are engaged in diabolical, avant-garde experiments previously
Performed only on insects and other small, meaningless creatures
Using her as their subject, they are delighted with the results
For the first time, a human being is transformed into a, shh, top secret

Meanwhile, back in Portland, Maine

Her husband Don, now chain-smoking 40 packs of cigarettes a day
Sits at a local bar and has a few beers with the regulars
Bored, everyone's attention turns to the television set
That just hangs from the wall, welcome to bowling for dollars

Suddenly, crazy Al says
"S-say, Don, there sure is something familiar about that bowling ball"
To which the terrified Don replies
"Oh my God! That bowling ball, it's my wife!"

And the lesson we learn from this story is
Next time you place your order, don't forget to say, "No anchovies please"