Rockall Times celebrates fourth birthday in traditional style

Rockall was on Sunday the scene of unbridled celebration and joy as the sacred islet's foremost satire publication — The Rockall Times — celebrated its fourth birthday. Throngs of flag-waving children and decorated war heroes packed the island's narrow cobbled streets to pay tribute to the small band of internet satirists who, on 12 November 2001, burst onto the web like zit pus on a bathroom mirror.

One tearful local, who had slept all night in a dustbin in order to secure a front-row position for the commemorative parade and fly-past by the Kyrgyzstan air force, said: "I haven't seen anything like it since Rockall won the world speed-basting championships back in '53 when Declan 'Lightning Spatula' O'Donnell saw off a world-class field of chicken basters in a nail-biting final round. It fair brings a tear to your eye, it really does."

Rockall's liveliest hostelry — the Fighting Dog and Pikey — was packed to the gunwales with delirious punters toasting the anniversary with the traditional tipple of Olde Wifebeater snakebite with a shot of absinthe. Celebrity guests included world fruit machine anecdote champions Paul "Six Nudges" Bowers and Mark "It was about to pay out" Alden who delighted fans with a virtuoso reminisce about a recent twelve-hour stint during which the pair pumped £2,500 into a "Chuckling Charles Clarke" frutie and were eventually rewarded with the £30 "Detention Without Trial" superbonus having secured thirteen nudges round the "Civil Liberties Carousel".

Landlord Vince shouted: "I haven't seen anything like it since that cargo ship carrying vodka, cocaine and Brazilian supermodels foundered on Hasselwood rock back in '63. That was one hell of a party, I can tell you."

Snug regular Arthur "Chalky" Black — ousted from his normal seat beside the shove ha'penny table by a small scrum of Rockall Times contributors — confirmed: "I've not seen anything like it since old Edna won eleven pounds, thirteen-and-sixpence on the pools back in '61. The Britannia Fighting Sherry flowed that night, make no mistake."

But while the general mood was for joyful remembrance, it was also a time to look to the future. "So, how are they ever going to make any money out of it?" questioned Vince. "Look at the poor buggers," he added indicating the grim-faced satirists huddled round a small glass of Olde Capt'n Trumpy's Rockall Rum. "Barely had enough for half a pint each and a bag of Skua and Sea Urchin crisps."

"Too much fuc*king swearing, that's the problem," offered a wobbly Davey Leveret, a female Chinese chicken plucker on each arm. "If they could just cut the fuc*king swearing. And cheer up a bit, the miserable fuc*kers."

"Yeah," agreed Vince. "They don't seem a very cheerful bunch, do they?"

"Tears of a clown..." burbled Leveret, his head buried firmly in ripe Chinese bust.

"Oh don't give me that 'tortured artist' crap," puffed Vince. "I like my satirists up at the bar, entertaining the punters with their razor-sharp wit and hilarious banter. Oi, you lot, give us a smile or you're all barred."

Back on the streets, meanwhile, the Mayor of Rockall had just finished cutting the ribbon on a memorial plaque to the Unknown Satirist — that nameless footsoldier of merriment whose thankless task it was to deliver top-notch and free entertainment to the masses.

"Quite a day," he admitted, his robes of office coated with a light spume courtesy of a stiff westerly breeze. "We haven't enjoyed scenes like these since exiled King Zog of Albania came to open the guillemot-canning factory back in '47." As he spoke, the skies briefly cleared allowing a weak shaft of sunlight to illuminate the world's remotest islet, a sight later described by the 28 Albanian paedophiles attempting to dicreetly disembark from a rowing boat as "soul-wrenchingly beautiful".