The Last Bastion of Sanity
What ho! Congratulations - you've arrived at H2G2's most exclusive establishment - the Chaps Club, splendid ! Pull up a pew, grab yourself a Gin `n` Tonic and let's chin wag for a while.
Our now rather notorious Valentines Day dance was held in the Hot Spot's Grand ballroom and featured the Chaps special dance the "Full Montgomery". It all went a bit pear shaped I'm afraid and our legal team are still handling the complaints and claims for compensation.
The Club is a tranquil haven of peace and quiet far from the modern world. We live in a better world full of wallahs and airforce types all having a friendly banter together, planning tip top wheezes or having a rant about the state of things. If you're a wag you'll be in good company.
Daringly Non-PC, the Chaps Club meets in the Clubhouse in the grounds of the Hotspot. If you decide to pop along do make sure you're sporting either your regimental or old school tie of course. Wouldn't want any Riff Raff getting eh !
Introducing Oneself to the Chaps
New Chaps and Female chaps are quite welcome all the time of course. Just toddle along to the Club House and introduce yourself. Splendid. Ready Old Chap ? Well just press here then, what, and you'll soon be amongst like-minded Chaps dontcherknow. Tallyho !
Staff and Facilities
Chaps Club Staff
The Chaps are served by a few faithful retainers and flunkeys (Butlers, attendants and manservants) all of an advanced age and diminished mental and physical powers of course. The service from the Club staff is very slow but they are all quite capable of moving at a sedate shuffle in emergencies.
If your luck is in you might be inexpertly served by the head waiter Scrotum (deceased and buried in the flower bed with no discernable reduction in the quality of service from the scoundrel).
The Chaps are accompanied by a host of personal manservants, valets, batmen and butlers. Among them are :-
- Riseley - waits on Inkers and also doubles up as a mechanic for his motorised divan bed.
- Winston - accompanies Feffers and has been known to occassionally provide some sport for a shoot.
- Godfrey - Pollers man attending to all his needs.
The Clubhouse is occasionally smartened up Smythe the cleaner.
The grounds and the golf course are tended by Fred Hog the gardener and handyman, who also helps to keep the Other Ranks out.
Chaps Club Facilities
Regulars have their own favourite leather armchairs to lounge about in front of a large roaring fireplace - perfect for endless recounting of favourite stories and serious whinges about the state of things and how things aren`t what they used to be in their day, what.
The Chaps Club sits in its own grounds surrounded by an 18 Hole Golf Course of course.
Everything is quite splendid and in tip-top shape. Pip Pip !
The Chaps Club can provide you with most beverages but the Chaps are awfully fond of one or two tipples in particular, dontcherknow. Service may be a little slow so all Chaps are encouraged to get their orders into Scrotum, toot-suite, eh !
Gin and Tonic
The mainstay of Chaps early evening drinking habits; prodigious quantities of gin, tonic, ice and lemon are available at all times for the members. A raised eyebrow to a passing waiter and a slight nod of the head will usually bring you one of our G`n`T's in a tick or two.
Bowel Clencher Special Ale
Lurchers Brewery produces the famous Bowel Clencher Special Ale brewed specially for the Chaps Club. Not for the faint-hearted.
Rumours of the availability of the new Lurcher "Vowel Strangler" beer are exciting the Chaps at present.
Straight from the Lurcher Distillery in Derbyshire comes another fine product from the Lurcher Corporation. The 30 year old single malt Glen MacLurcher is served at the finest hostelries in H2G2 and the Chaps Club is no exception.
Bassemans Port has a smooth somewhat sophisticated taste greatly enjoyed by the Chaps after a good trough in the splendid Club dining room. Enormous quantities of the bally stuff have been laid down by the Committee in anticipation of many years drinking pleasure.
Les Chien Rouge Claret
The only bally French thing allowed in the whole bally Club. Red Dog's personal favourite.
Apart from the Club Bentley, the members drive a variety of stately vehicles, from Rovers and Rolls Royces, the odd vintage Bull-nosed Morris and sporty little two seaters. All British of course, what !.
Membership - The Chaps Themselves
a.k.a Apollo. A long term resident of the Olympic Twilight Home for the Tired and Jaded (after living for many years at 42 Delphi Villas, East Cheam), Apollers is reputedly the oldest member of the Chaps Club. Even at his advanced age of several millenia he still has an eye for the ladies although he is less prone to turning himself into a pillar of fire these days on account of the apallingly high price of gas.
He has recently traded in his sporty little fiery chariot for a more sedate sedan chair but is still fond of roaring around the Clubs grounds. It is not recorded what the chair bearers think of this but they are often to be see expressing their strongly held opinions to Hogg the gardener in the Potting Shed.
Apollers was recently distinguished himself whilst performing the Full Montgomery entirely without the aid of a valet.
Favourite tipple: Nectar and Ambrosia although has recently admitted to a craving for jam.
a.k.a Bassman, Squabbling Bleeder Bassman (Retired. Knife Fork Spoon. D.F.C. N.F.I. and Bar) is son of the Champion Tobogganist - Sir Elden Erskine-Crumb (His mother didn't change her name on marriage) who ended up in an institution.
"Bassers" can always be found sat wearing his favourite smoking jacket, in a comfy deep studded red leather Chesterfield, to the left of the fireplace looking out over the 18th hole.
Served in Burma, at Rawkes Drift, and also has links to the Special Operations Executive. He'd love to tell you all about this, but he'd have to shoot you and dispose of the body - for reasons of national security.
Captain of the Chap's Club bridge team, famously shot a partner, who failed to make "Seven No Trumps", when he was sat with all 13 Spades in his hand.
1938, 39 and 40 Rawkes Drift Billiards champion, and 1940 Rawkes Drift golf champion.
a.k.a Busterbone, Squadron Commander "Busters" Busterbone served with distinction in WWI leading his famed "Black Jacket" squadron on innumerable raids over enemy territory in their Sopwith Pups. Busters had 78 confirmed kills of which at least 60 were enemy planes.
Shot down over the Rhine he spent the last 12 months of the war in a POW camp escaping on 15 occassions but always being captured again at some local pub.
After the war, with his eyesight failing, Busters was forbidden to fly. A heartbroken Busters spent 18 months in a "Depression Alleviation Facility" i.e a lunatic asylum before coming up with the idea that would spark a renewed interest in life - Elephant Polo.
The game, played like Polo, but with elephants rather than horses and with shotguns rather than mallets (and with a nimble servant as a target) took off all over the world realising a valuable source of income for the mostly demented Busters.
He spends most of his time in the Chaps club, writing articles for Elephant Polo Weekly, drinking and reminiscing about his days as a pilot. And waiting .... for his country to call on him again .... to once again to lead his squadron into the air against the foe (whoever that may be). And when that call comes he knows that he, his plane, and his elephants will be ready.
Notable Achievements - First man to land a plan on a boat. Unfortunately the boat was a canoe.
Favourite Drink - Black Jacket Scotch.
Favourite Pastime - Giving a damn good shooting to things that need a damn good shooting.
a.k.a TF. Feffers was lost on a recent trip to the flesh pots of Amsterdam and is Missing - Presumed Happy.
a.k.a Ekki. Ekkers is as Ekkers does" as the old adage goes. What in Billy-o it's supposed to mean is anyones business but so long as it in involves Popsy, Single Malt and giving Johnnie Foreigner a damn good pasting then who's going to complain?
Illegitimate son of the Reverend Stanley St John Quentin Lucifer Cholmondley-Smythe-Blenkinsop-Beaulieu of that ilk, Ekkers was officially recognised as the youngest combattant of The Great War. Aged just 18 months he lead a crack attack squadron 'gainst the might of the German Army, exemplifying the pluckiness of the youth of the day.
Awarded the Victoria Cross, post-humously on his untimely demise, at the tender age of three, many had written him off as being past it, a prophecy that was so close to being realised when he was subsequently stripped of said award on the discovery that he wasn't actually dead at all, merely having a nap.
Avoiding bringing yet more shame and scandal on the family name, he eloped to the continent with the tantalising teenage triplets known simply as Faith, Hope and Charity where he sired numerous gifted and highly successful progeny, all before the age of 21.
He saw action in many of the worlds major skirmishes and was, once again, awarded the Victoria Cross, once again post-humously, only, once again, to have it stripped due to the fact that he was infact, despite popular rumour and his attendance at The Palace for the award ceremony, dead having shuffled from this mortal coil some 20 plus years previously.
Since those halcyon days he has bided his time in numerous clubs, building up a good level of archaeological excitement on each and every one of his club ties and speaking utter twaddle, much to the dismay of his ever increasing number of grand-children.
"There's no rest for the wicked" he's often heard to say, and who is anyone to doubt him.
a.k.a Inkwash, Inkers has a startling propensity for dropping off to sleep at the drop of a hat. Holder of the Chaps Club "Golden Pillow" Award in perpetuity, Inkers just cannot seem to keep the old mince pies open for more than two shakes of a lambs tail.
Unlike most Chaps, Inkers is well known for not talking about his war exploits except those times when he slept with distinction through some of the last War's major campaigns. Is known to have been evacuated from Dunkirk in a one man standard army issue camp bed, to have hit the beach in Normandy on D-Day in his very own four-poster and fought the entire desert campaign in a nice little motorised divan.
After sustaining a wound (copped a bally bullet in the nodger whilst in a reclining position) was transfered into a War Department job transcribing letters to Blighty for Chaps and Chappesses out in the colonies.
Hobbies - 40 winks.
Favourite tipple - Rather partial to the odd , washed down with and topped off now and then with a .
a.k.a Lurcher, Lurchers is from the distinguished Derbyshire branch of the Lurchington-Stanley's. Lurchers started his military career in a conventional manner, but was soon seconded to serve various Government departments (details of which are still covered by the Official Secrets Act). Saw covert action in most theatres of war, serving with Distinction, but,alas,no recognition, due to the nature of his activities.
After retiring from government service, travelled widely acting as Consultant to many service agencies, before returning to the UK to assume control of the Lurcher Corporation. Principal interests include "hands on" direction of the McLurchers Distillery, the Lurcher Brewery, and the operation of the Lupine Park Golf Club.
Favourite tipple - Single Malt and G`n`T.
Favourite paper - Whatever is left in Club Lounge.
Hobbies - Golf. See also see principal interests.
a.k.a Polidari Wormwood. Pollers is a Fellow of indeterminate age, usally found in the corner by the tallboy, only known to have moved twice from his seat since 1956.
Served with distinction in the Boer war, and three-times commended for bravery (once by the Boers, but he doesn't like to talk about that). Joined the RAF in it's very early days and was co-creator of the Sopwith Camel after a particularly drunken night in the grounds of London Zoo which led to him being barred from that particular establishment for life.
In the Great War reknowned for his devil-me-care flying skills which bagged 76 confirmed kills across 13 different nationalities, including at least 26 aircraft from countries not actually participating in the war. Not allowed in Switzerland to this day.
Took part in the Battle of the Sommes, but was severely drunk at the time and can be hard pressed to remember very much of what happened. Ended the war organising the impromptu football matches that broke out between our glorious boys and the dastardly Hun (England lost on penalties).
Retired from the RAF in 1923, and after a couple of years at the wicket went to India where he still owns approximately 23% of Jodhpur, but unfortunately cannot remember exactly which 23% it is nor exactly where Jodhpur is anyway.
Came back to Blighty in 1939 to volunteer himself and was promptly signed up to Bomber Command where he was Bomber Harris' number 2, and helped choose the targets for the late night bombing raids. Again the Swiss were unimpressed. Once won one of Douglas Bader's legs in a game of bridge, which he still keeps in his locker at the Club.
Captured by Fritz after going along as observer on one ill thought-out bombing mission, and holds the record for most unsuccessful escape attempts from a POW camp (126).
Pollers is widely admired by the Chaps for his ability for telling the most enormous whoppers in a tellingly convincing fashion, and is (as a consequence) the Chaps Braggart Champion. Course, that's his story.
a.k.a ex-Rambling. Ramblers, a Texan filly and a former cook in the U.S. Women's Army Air Korpse, earned her wings training the famous trooping Parrots for an engagement in the Six Day War. Unfortunately, by the time she got customs clearance for the birds, she found out that: (A) the U.S. would not be involved in this particular conflict and (B) the bally war was over. Undaunted, she continued to train them (Troop, Damn You!!) for future engagements.
Such was her dedication and relentless persuit of perfekshun that she has earned the title "Sadistic Drill Instructor", and the undying loyalty of the Trooping Parrots.
At present, Ramblers life status is uncertain and it is believed that she may be deceased and on active duty with the Dog House thus confirming her reputation for being relentless. Also known for her mischevious outlook on life, she can be found haunting the Golf Course at the Chaps Club, or sleeping off her various debauches in the ante room of the 19th hole.
a.k.a Red Dog, Redders has been a member of the Chaps Club for some considerable time, inheriting membership from his father the late Rt Hon Red Dog of Baskerville.
After attending Eton and a distinguished military career fighting Johnny Turk and the Fuzzy Wuzzies on the North West Frontier, Redders became a Tory MP and part time Bigot. Presently membership secretary for the Chaps Club, Redders entertains ambitions of remaining in his pleasantly soft and beguiling armchair in the members lounge until the end of time. Plays occasional Rugby at three-quarters for the "Old Harrumphians" veteran third fifteen (Club motto "Vescere bracis meis" - Eat my shorts).
A legendary figure at the Club for once attempting to go and get a round of drinks himself, entirely without the aid of staff, directions and money. Was not seen by the members for two days and returned empty-handed and emaciated. Has never left his lounge chair since that episode.
Favourite tipple -
Hobbies - (1) Drinking favourite tipple, (2) Writing letters to the Times deploring the state of things, (3) Sitting in his Chair.
a.k.a Prof. C. Tonks.
a.k.a Uncle Heavy. Unkkers, unlike the other esteemed members of the club, has never served with distinction in any Regiment. Highly decorated for cowardice in numerous campaigns, Unkkers was the British Army's running champion for years in a row: '40-'44 and was much respected by his men for his fleetness of foot and his propensity to lead from the rear.
Now a dedicated aesthete, boozer and womaniser, Unkkers can be found proping up large drinks at the Chap's Club bar.
Latterly Unkkers has enjoyed immense prestige within the Chaps Club by perfecting his special drunken technique of "holding onto the floor so you don't fall off". Unkkers is presently on no ones "mosted wanted list" and is not wanted by law enforcement agencies around the world.
a.k.a Wonderful, Wonders was in the RAF as a Hurricane pilot during the Second Great War, and along the way attained the rank of Major and 32 confirmed kills to boot ! Inherited the Wonderful estate after the war and got his Lordship don't you know. Spent some time in Whitehall but probably more on the old golf course. Lately he has been working on setting up a distillery and have been finding ways of making his own tipple. Wonderful stuff.
Favorite Tipple -
Favorite Newspaper - The Times.
Hobbies - Golf, the ol' distillery and avoiding all this new fangled technology.
a.k.a Richard Reginald Wrigley-Roberts and more commonly know as Wrinklers. First mentioned in dispatches whilst serving as a Lieutenant with the Natal Light Horse when killed in action against at Isandhlwana. Re-incarnated on the Boer side as Veldkommandant at Amajuba, he was decorated with a large piece of Kudu biltong for shooting a British Tommy's white hat off at 1256 paces with his Mauser. Later captured and exiled to St Helena, he spent the rest of that life researching the cause of Napoleon's stomach aches by exactly replicating his daily drinking regime. Cremated and returned to Africa in a cigar box, he was re-incarnated as a horse serving in the South West African campaign.
Re-incarnated again into the South African Corps of Engineeers, he was in command of mustard gas production and deployment during the Second World War. (Details of this part of his distinguished career are still covered by the Official Secrets Act and buried in dust in an old steel chest in The Castle, Cape Town marked 'Diseases, Venereal, Treatment for sailors with.') He saw action in the Sahara against Rommel and in Palestine (twice weekly with a popular local beauty named Fatima) until he was buried alive by a rockfall in a cave whilst on weekend leave, searching for some parchment scrolls somewhere near the Dead Sea.
He started his naval career when he was re-incarnated as a U-boat commander attacking a Murmansk convoy just before it was sunk by a Royal Navy depth charge somewhere off the Norwegian coast. He then became a torpedo on the pocket-battleship Graf Spee for some time until a vacancy became available as a floating sea mine released by a German raider off the South African coast. Unexploded, he beached himself some weeks later near Cape Agulhas and became a Harvard trainer at Dunottar in the then Transvaal with the Royal Air Force (later the South African Air Force) until he crashed at an air show at Zwartkops airfield near Pretoria.
He returned to the SA Navy as a destroyer Captain until promoted to Commodore at Naval headquarters after an unfortunate incident involving ramming the bow into the quay at Simonstown. He retired as Vice-Admiral to his cottage overlooking a nudist beach at Sandy Bay. He spends his golden years on his stoep writing his memoirs, with his ever-present bottle of Jamaican rum and powerful binoculars for whale watching.
Postscript: Sadly, due to advancing Atzheimers, WR's memoirs must be re-started all over every day as he doesn't recognise the previous days work at all.