The Drone’s
Established: 1910
“We're
pretty broad minded here, and if you stop short of smashing the piano, there
isn't much you can do at the Drones that will cause the raised eyebrow and the
sharp intake of breath"
-A Drone’s
Member
Address:
Dover
Street, Mayfair, W1
Entry
Restrictions
Men only
Famous Members
Samuel
Galahad “Sam” Bagshott
Charles
Edward “Biffy” Biffen
Montague
“Monty” Bodkin
Godfrey
“Biscuit” Brent, Lord Biskerton
“Tubby”
Bridgnorth
Frederick
“Freddie” Bullivant
Hugo
Carmody
G.
d’Arcy “Stilton” Cheesewright
Marmaduke
“Chuffy” Chuffnell
Nelson
Cor
Dudley
Finch
Augustus
“Gussie” Fink-Nottle
Ronald
Overbury “Ronnie” Fish
George
“Boko” Fittleworth
Cyril
“Barmy” Fotheringay-Phipps
Hildebrand
“Tuppy” Glossop
Richard
“Bingo” Little
Algernon
“Algy” Martyn
Archibald
“Archie” Mulliner
Horace
Pendlebury-Davenport
Judson
Phipps
Harold
“Stinker” Pinker
Tipton
Plimsoll
Claude
Cattermole “Catsmeat” Potter Pirbright
Alexander
“Oofy” Prosser
Rupert
“Psmith” Smith
Adolphus
“Stiffy” Stiffham
Reginald
“Reggie” Tennyson
Frederick
“Freddie” Threepwood
Reginald
“Pongo” Twistleton
Hugo
Walderwick
Frederick
“Freddie” Widgeon
Percy
Wimbolt
Harold
“Ginger” Winship
Bertram
“Bertie” Wooster
Algernon “Algy” Wymondham-Wymondham
Skills
Augmented:
Bargain; Cricket; Fist/Punch; Sneak; Throw;
Areas of Speciality:
Country House Retreats; Cricket; Famous Cooks; Musical
Theatre
History
Not all of
London’s most famous Clubs are, in fact, real. Some of them exist only in the
pages of famous writers who, themselves, drew upon their own memberships for
inspiration. We’ve seen how Boodle’s provided Ian Fleming with the notion of
M’s Club Blades, and other writers have developed their own establishments in a
similar fashion. Most famous of all however, has to be the Drone’s Club,
created by Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse.
The founding
of the Drone’s Club is shrouded in the mists of time (circa 1910) and is
rumoured to have been a charitable act, similar to those of foreign organisations
which fund the return of ex-patriate gentlemen back to their homelands after
their fortunes turn bad. Establishing a place where vapid and wastrel
upper-class youth could be gathered together in one spot seems an act definitely
tailored towards the Common Good.
The Drones
is populated by young men of a class viciously referred to as “upper-class
twits”. They have no particular political or ideological bent beyond indulging
their fondness for high-jinks and the furthering of relationships formed whilst
in school at Harrow, or Eton. As a group they instinctively shy away from
anything bordering on the intellectual.
Uniting all
members of the Drone’s is deeply-hued hatred of another Club called the
Chanters. Members of that Club are all earnest, go-getting young men who pride
themselves on being everything that the Drones are not. Regular inter-varsity
activities take place between the two establishments and these contests are
bitterly played out. These events are of the challenge variety and are usually
instigated by a Chanter’s Club member heaving the gauntlet at the foot of a
Drone’s Club adversary.
Events
within the Drones Club include the following: The Drones Club Annual Golf
Rally; The Drones Club Annual Darts Tournament (sweepstakes); and the Drones
Club Annual Fat Uncle Contest (sweepstakes). The Golf Rally takes place along
St. James’s Street: participants must carry a golf club and have their own
ball; they tee off from the front steps of the Senior Club on Pall Mall and
finish with a chip shot through the front door of the Berkeley Club in
Piccadilly. Drinks are de rigueur.
Very few Drone’s ever complete the course, what with the fleeing through
shattered glass from angry Club members and the escaping from policemen. The
Darts Tournament, being a sweepstakes event has little to do with the skill of
the players, and the Fat Uncle Contest is likewise handicapped in the tactics
department. (For the record, the Fat Uncle Contest involves surreptitiously
discovering the weights of various nominated avuncular relatives.)
The
Clubhouse has two smoking lounges, one large and one small; however for reasons
unknown the small lounge is rarely used. The dining room is often raucous and
filled with unbridled conversation, leading to the tradition of attracting the
attention of a fellow member by throwing a bread roll at him. There is a
gymnasium with a swimming pool, ropes and rings but its use is generally
infrequent.
More
important than the facilities are the personnel. The head barman, McGarry, has
an encyclopaedic memory and mixes the Club members’ cocktails to perfection
every time. The head porter Bates is a past master of diplomacy and defends the
Club’s gates from unwanted intrusion and idiocy. And Robinson who works as a
waiter in the cloakroom, is the voice of reason when it comes to organising and
assigning hats, coats and various types of purloined impedimenta, including policemen’s helmets.
*****
“Once a year
the committee of the Drones decides that the old Club could do with a wash and
brush-up, so they shoo us out, and dump us down for a few weeks at some other
institution. This time we were roosting at the Senior Liberal, and, personally,
I had found the strain pretty fearful. I mean, when you’ve got used to a Club
where everything’s nice and cheery, and where, if you want to attract a
fellow’s attention, you heave a bit of bread at him, it kind of damps you to
come to a place where the youngest member is about eighty-seven, and it isn’t
good form to talk to anyone unless you and he were through the Peninsular War
together. It was a relief to come across Bingo. We started to talk in hushed
voices. ‘This Club,’ I said, ‘is the limit.’
‘It is the
eel’s eyebrows,’ agreed young Bingo. ‘I believe that old boy over by the window
has been dead three days, but I don’t like to mention it to anyone...’”
- P.G.
Wodehouse
“If you are
so jolly sure that life is finally extinct, just try clearing away that glass
and see what happens!”
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