Ally Bassett MacRahy

After I voted - as instructed - for that mass-murder to be released on the grounds that (a) he was innocent, and (b) it would embarrass Labour, he has the temerity to question Scottish Justice and by implication Mr Alex and Mr Kenny, and The Project.

Worst of all, he has not published his allegations in Gaelic in accordance with the Gaelic Language Plans (Release of murderers to other Jurisdictions) Act 2009.

There are many people in the Western Isles and beyond who want, nay deserve, the right to ignore this website in a language of their own choosing.

I have written to Mr Kenny demanding that Mr MacRahy's parole is revoked and that he is brought back from Liverpool to Barlinnie, so that we can them release him again on compassionate grounds, after giving him a good talking to, to show just how munificent and wonderful the SNP really are.

Kenny is still unwell since the announcement about the rocket range, and the odour of guga and Tennants in the office is starting to subside. At least upstairs, as the gasses seem to be heavier than air.

Mr Angus is missing, having missed his connections in London (twice) and he is not answering messages left at the Union Jack Club; even when Rhona pretends that he has won a years supply of Toblerones.

Rocket range saved!

Doom and gloom in the Stornoway office, which makes me glad to be back in civilisation in Edinburgh and away from the tedious expectations of representation from constituents.

Mr Angus phoned first thing this morning from the new SNP Embassy building he has just organised in the Spearmint Rhino building in Washington to tell me that there was bad news.

It looks like Labour have done the dirty on us and are planning to keep the Range open.

Mr Angus is almost in tears and he can hardly managed to order another Toblerone and raid the minibar on expenses, whilst giving a $10 note to one of the staff, who he says can hardly afford enough to buy clothes to wear.

I am furious and I will be urgently trying to speak to Mr Alex and Mr John later this week to find if there is any way that this deception by Labour can be reversed, as there are two jobs in the Western Isles that are more important than any others.

I program my phone to block all calls from Uist, only to remember I did this a month ago.

My very personal assistant brings me a cup of rosemary and nettle tea and another boxes of silk hankies, and gently dabs my eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you? Anything?", he asks in his softest most comforting voice. I look straight into his deep limpid eyes, and a smile crosses my face: "Yes, see if Alex Orr is free tonight."

Rocket range

I have just discovered that QinetiQ have been advertising for someone to run the range from England. This is the proof that we have been waiting for that the range is to close!

Mr Angus is ecstatic. He phoned me from Las Vegas where he was meeting with some young business women to discuss the possibility of them building a casino in Balivanich, although they seem to be more interested in providing the ancillary services. Mr Angus is flying back to Washington - for the traditional SNP fund-raising Scottish ceilidh and ribs bbq, washed down with bottles of lo-cal diet decaf McCoors no-alcohol lite - before they notice his absence.

He has instructed a press release to be issued on his behalf and has told me to put the champagne on ice for his return in October, as the closure is going to guarantee his re-election forever.

After careful thought I have issued the following balanced statement, which I think captures the sombre mood of the people of Uist:

Not since the battle of Culloden has the death of so many islanders been on the hands of an English Government.

A veritable Passchendaele of devastation is being planned by Labour in Uist with the planned closure of the rocket range and the mass drowning of the workers to avoid relocation costs or redundancy payments.

In my hand I hold the evidence that it is planned to level the site and bulldoze St Kilda into the sea, in breach of all the UN resolutions.

Despite literally months of work by Mr John over the past few weeks, which included sending someone to meetings, and speaking to me twice, the SNP Government has been ignored by Labour who have singularly failed to make the telephone calls to tell Mr John or Mr Angus that the SNP are right and that the range is saved.

Mr Angus has worked tirelessly, ignoring the interference of the Taskforce (myself excepted) and despite having his phone being on constantly, he has not been phoned by the Minister, the Secretary of State, anyone at the Range or by the Taskforce (well not more than 10 times, but they aren't helping his re-election campaign much).

With deep disappointment, I look forward to blaming Labour for Uist sinking slowly into the sea.

Kenny walks into the office at this moment, cracking open a bottle of Old Rapier 2 month old whisky ("Have a dram before you are fired") and finishing a 1 litre bottle of Deady Lightning cider. "Success", he cried - dodging the paper punch that Rhona passed to him at high speed as he tripped over the waste basket and his face connected with Rhona's knee jerk - "Our [expletive deleted] jobs are safe for another [expletive deleted] election or two!" Rubbing the blood from his nose with a copy of the Gazette, he passed round the now nearly empty bottle and a celebratory bag of Cross Stores celebrated oven-roasted hamster crisps, with paprika.

As Kenny slowly lapsed into a coma a gentle smile played across our faces as we realised the truth of his slurred words.