Here’s a short ditty - ‘bout a small group of Brits,
Fourteen were men - and the big one had tits,
Marines and Sailors - in the Queen’s Royal Navy,
Iroonis soon taught ‘em - that life’s not all gravy.
Sailing uninvited - in the Khaleej-e Fars,
They found themselves - behind locked bars,
Smiling for the cameras - and looking quite jolly,
They begged forgiveness - for their errant folly.
The woman among them - was named Faye Turney,
The size of her girth - made my tummy churney,
She got lots of gifts - and a lifetime’s attention,
For the two weeks she spent - in Irooni detention.
Lots of chelo kebab - and sweet fessenjoon,
Made poor Turney’s big ass - begin to balloon.
Her tight painful trousers and - blood curdling cries,
Got tailors nearby - to sew a “Big Bertha” size.
The men in the group - weren’t overly manly,
They were soft, white and wimpy - and all were called Stanley,
They played lots of Chess - and smiled big toothy smiles,
While the akhonds decided - if they should all go on trial.
Stanleys One, Two and Three - would have been as happy as clams,
To stay in Iran - and snag their own Persian man,
An engineer or a doctor - would have made quite a catch,
But, the language and culture - proved too big a stretch.
Then, as with all things in life, - their vacation did end,
To London , the Brit-twits, - Iran finally did send,
In new suits, with hip luggage - and stuffed goodie bags,
They went to the airport - in style, not in rags.
Met with derision at home - and by many called meek,
With no hostages’ welcome, - their fortunes looked bleak,
Suddenly it clicked - they could now change their tune,
If they threw enough mud - some would stick to the room.
Next, offers of cash - began to pour in,
If they’d just tell their stories - and make ‘em real grim,
So they told how they suffered - in captivity,
Tortured with biscuits...with sweets - and buckets of tea.
Of course, the Civilized World -for them shed a tear,
How they suffered indignities - in shame and in fear.
Those savage Iranians - are movie 300 cruel,