CINNAMINSON, NJ—Nervously eyeballing the appetizer tray after the last of the wings and nachos had been polished off, famished man Evan Lee Anders finally succumbed Sunday to the deceitful whisper of hours-old gameday deviled eggs at his Super Bowl party. “No, no, no, no, no, I can’t. I mustn’t,” said Anders, who frantically paced around his apartment murmuring “Stop it, Evan, stop it,” to avoid the beckoning call of the egg-based appetizer. “They are calling me, so maybe I’ll just—no, I’m fine, everything’s fine. They’ve been sitting out there since 10 a.m., they are not going to fool me. I can survive on dip until the end of the game.” At press time, a ravenous, foaming Anders asked his wife to tie him to his recliner so he wouldn’t be tempted to eat another deviled egg.