Shocking revelations from the UK today as a close knit group of satirists, known as 'The Coal Hole In The Wall Gang' finally bowed to unrelenting pressure from extreme masculinists, and came out of the closet waving pink chiffon scarves, whilst proudly proclaiming that they are, in fact, gay.
The first troubador to break ranks was East End push bike technician, Clive Danton, who confessed that he was gay, and admitted that his gay friends down at the Pink Champagne Wine Bar in trendy Bethnal Green call him Olive.
But only when he's outfitted in full drag.
"Bein' a mechanic an' that," Danton told reporters. "It's 'ard graft keepin' me nails free of oily shite, but the lads deserve me lookin' a tad edible, as it were. So it's worth the effort. This whole gay thing has been such a burden. I should have got it orf me chest years ago. Nar it's all done and dusted, and my sense of relief is palpable. I glad I came clean."
Next up was factory worker Skoob1999. He told us:
"I was touched by Cliveypops's frank admission. And it kind of tugged on a nerve or two in me nether regions. So I decided to make a clean breast of it too. I've been deceiving readers for years with the myth that there's an alluring Mrs Skoob, poised right behind me. Actually, Mrs Skoob is my civil partner, Arthur Pendragon, a trawlerman from St Austell, who is heavily into sea shanties and authentic sushi cuisine. He's a sensitive sort, and I felt I owed it to him to wipe the slate clean, and make a fresh start. When I informed Arthur of my decision he was very supportive, and well up for it. I'll say! Oh yes indeedy!"
From that point, the floodgates opened.
Bolivian dictator Colonel Juan was the next to nail his colours to the mast.
"I did it in the name of solidarity," Colonel Juan said. "I too have been living a lie this past three years. I'm not really a Bolivian dictator at all. I'm Peruvian. And I'm a greengrocer really. That picture of the wonky eyed nurse...it's really me, at the bar in The Coal Hole. I'm not ashamed. I still adore the poetry of Wilfred Owen, still love the subtlety of Joe Orton's dramatic penmanship, and watching Freddie Mercury in the latter stages of his life never fails to induce a tear or two from my world weary eye. I suppose the bottom line can be summarised by quoting the late great Duke - a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."
Many more are expected to follow, in what promises to be a new dawn in the world of satiristas.
Reaction globally has been mixed.
"Ooh! I'm all for it me!" said satirist Gay Larry. "The more the merrier! I'm free!"
"I think this is disgusting, and an abomination before the Good Lord!" one satirist claimed. "Men ain't supposed to do stuff like that with other men. It's all a bit queer if'n you axe me. Mind you, if there ain't no nubile women around, I'm startin' to git with the programme. I still think it's disgusting though. What exactly is it that these gay fellers git up to? And where do I sign up? Not that I'm gay or anythin'..."
Of course not.
More as we get it. (In a strictly gay way.)
