Until a few days ago we had for years portrayed pop singer Monterey Smithson as a freak, who kept doctoring his face with plastic surgery and couldn't sing, and who hung around lots of very small children he had paid to have delivered to the secrecy of his own home, many of whom later took him to court on charges of sexual abuse.
We had also suggested that Smithson, as well as possibly being a deviant who would have been jailed if he wasn't wealthy, was possibly unfit to be any sort of parent, having publicly dangled his own child out of a window of a multi-storey building, plus, of course, allegedly molested many little boys, and was allegedly a drug addict, addicted to doctors' prescription medicines.
Plus there was the suggestion that the singer was a manufactured star from the very start, the Smithson 5 being simply five hothoused, dancing singing children, who could have been anybody, and that his solo career was simply Quincy Smith's one, as Smith wrote and produced all of his songs. In short, he was despised and ridiculed by people all around the world.
But now we wish to make it clear we were mistaken in all these things, and mistaken for many years. Monterey Smithson was, in fact, a great singer, and had a massive influence on the world of pop music, uniting fans of many types of musical genres. His surgery was simply a cry for help from a disturbed young man, and he only harmlessly hung around little boys because he had never really grown up.
And he really wrote quite a few of his own songs, he needed the medications for all sorts of allergies, the Smithson 5 were a ground-breaking pop group that transcended race and class, and his solo career changed music forever. In short, he was adored by millions of fans across the world, none of whom have any unhealthy interest in little boys, leather, plastic surgery, or spending time in bed with little children.
We apologise unreservedly for any confusion our previous 25 years of lampooning and ridiculing Monterey Smithson may have caused, and also offer our apologies to the singer's estate. And we fully support all the recent positive publicity about Smithson's incredible and wonderful career, and hope that all of his records will shoot straight back to number one in the charts, as such a respected and talented - and non-child-abusing - star deserves.
Next week the news will be featuring Adolf Hitler, 'The Misunderstood Genius from a Tormented Childhood Background', and 'Mein Kampf' parts one and two will go straight to the top of the bookselling charts again. 'I never saw anything wrong with Adolf putting all those children into those trains', Elizabeth Grovellor said from NeverTrustTheMediaLand, 'and I never saw anything wrong with Monterey putting all those little boys into his bed.'
And another friend of the singer's, Uri Perver, added 'Monterey was a beautiful person, who harmlessly pranced around stages, squeaking 'yow!' and grabbing his crotch before going backstage to be with his entourage of small boys. You'd trust him to be alone with your own little children, just like you'd trust me to be alone with them.'
We can only hope that our uninformed and inaccurate spoofs about the late genius of pop will be wiped clean by the media's reinvention of Monterey Smithson, a reinvention that has only taken them a week to prepare. There's hope for Adolf Hitler yet.
Addenda : We wish to make it also clear that we are not in any way suggesting that Monterey Smithson and Adolf Hitler had any similarities at all. One of them had unhealthy pale skin and dressed up in weird leather clothes, appearing to huge audiences to wow them with his voice, and was continually praised and publicised by the American media, despite obvious and seriously immoral behaviour on his part. The other one was the leader of the Nazi Party.
Sub Addenda : The management here must be the only people in the world unaware that Monterey Smithson is a proven child abuser, a proven user of plastic surgery, and a proven briber of parents that took him to court in America. Still, don't let satire get into this place, the next thing you might end up being satirised yourself.