Best if read out loud to an intelligent group:
Waitress: Hawaii, Mister? You must be Hungary.
Gent: Yes, Siam. And I can't Rumania long, either. Venice
Waitress: I'll Russia table. What are you Ghana Havre?
Gent: You want Tibet? I prefer Turkey. Can Jamaica cook
step on the Gaza bit?
Waitress: Odessa laugh! Alaska, but listen for her Wales.
Gent: I'm not Balkan. Just put a Cuba sugar in my Java.
Waitress: Don't you be Sicily, big boy. Sweden it yourself.
I'm only here to Serbia.
Gent: Denmark my check and call the Bosphorus, Egypt me.
There's an Eire. I hope he'll Kenya. I don't Bolivia know
who I am!
Waitress: Canada noise! I don't Caribbean. You sure Ararat!
Gent: Samoa your wisecracks? What's got India? D'you think
this arguing Alps business? Why be so Chile? Be Nice!
Waitress: Don't Kiev me that Boulogne! Alemain do! Spain in
the neck. Pay your Czech and don't Kuwait. Ayssinia!
Gent (to himself): I'll come back with my France and Taiwan
on Zanzibar is open.