It is the 6th of February, 1966. Lancashire. Matilda rests on the hospital bed, breathing hard. Her husband, John, holds her hand. The doctor tells Matilda that she’s doing well: One more push and the baby will be out. Matilda closes her eyes and grimaces. There is a small, feeble cry.
The doctor stands up, holding the baby. “Mr. Astley, it’s a boy.”
“A boy?” John asks. “We thought it was going to be a girl.” John and Matilda, exhausted, didn’t expect this.
They did not expect this boy, and they have no name ready. John fumbles verbally for a bit, and finally pronounces that the baby’s name is Rick. The Astleys look at Rick for a bit and then, shaking their heads, hand him off to a nurse.
John looks up, to his god, shaking his head as if to say “Okay, you got me. You got me.”
And that is the story of the first rickroll.