"I always knew my inside leg would lead to power."

The Bed-Sitting Room is a satirical play by Spike Milligan and John Antrobus. It started off as a one-act play which was first produced at the Marlowe Theatre, Canterbury. This was adapted to a longer play which was first performed in 1963 at London's Mermaid Theatre, it was a critical and commercial hit, and was revived in 1967. A film based on the play was released in 1970, although this was less successful. The film was directed by Richard Lester and the cast included Ralph Richardson, Arthur Lowe, Rita Tushingham, Peter Cook, Dudley Moore, Michael Hordern, Marty Feldman, Harry Secombe and Milligan himself. The screenplay was adapted by Charles Wood.

The play is set in a post-apocalyptic London, nine months after World War III ("the Nuclear Misunderstanding"), which lasted for two minutes and twenty eight seconds – "including the signing of the peace treaty". Nuclear fallout is producing strange mutations in people; the title refers to the character Lord Fortnum, who finds himself transforming into a bed-sitting room (other characters turn into a parrot and a wardrobe). The plot concerns the fate of the first child to be born after the war.

"In the premises of Mr Nike, ask to be measured for a suit by the head cutter".

The Chap Manifesto

"Society is withering, like the fruit on some diseased vine. We have become the playthings of corporations intent on converting our world into a gargantuan shopping precinct. Pleasantness and civility are being discarded as the worthless ephemera of a bygone age - an age when men doffed their hats at the ladies, and small children could be counted upon to mind one's Jack Russell while one took a mild and bitter in the local hostelry.

Instead, we live in a world where children are huge, inelegant hooded creatures lurking on street corners; the local hostelry has been taken over by a chain and serves chemically-laced lager which aggravates the nervous system. Needless to say, the Jack Russell is no longer there upon one's return.

The Chap proposes to take a stand against this culture of vulgarity. By turning ancient rituals of courtesy and dress into revolutionary acts, the immaculately attired Anarcho-Dandyist can use the razor-sharp crease in his trousers to press home his advantage. Once presented with the dazzling sight of rakishly angled trilbies, gleaming brogues and exquisitely mixed dry martinis, hoi polloi's long-cherished nylon sportswear and strawberry milkshakes will suddenly lose their appeal.

It is time for Chaps and Chapettes from every walk of life to stand up and be counted. Naturally unsuited to all forms of exertion, we propose a Charmed Uprising based on excessive languor and delivering pleasantries such as "How do you do?" and "A very good day to you, madam!" with revolutionary zeal. Our methods will be stealth, civility and charm, our targets the behemoths of corporate blandification. We urge sympathisers to assist our cause by engaging in the following revolutionary acts:

Enter the purveyors of ‘fast food’ and request a table for two with “a pleasant view,” then order a breakfast of devilled kidneys, kedgeree and eggs Benedict.

In a high-street coffee chain which offers tea on its menu, ask for a pot of Lapsang souchong, a cup and saucer and some toast with Gentleman’s Relish.

In the premises of Mr Nike, ask to be measured for a suit by the head cutter.

In the type of high street hostelry that has a bouncer on the door, order a Pousse Café (the yolk of one fresh egg, 1/6 gill of yellow Chartreuse, 1/6 gill of Eau de Vie de Danzig, or Danziger Goldwasser).

Enter an ophthalmic optician and ask to see the monocle selection.

Enter an establishment offering “Internet chat rooms” and try to engage someone in conversation.

Offer “gentlemen of the road” (hobos) not money – which they might spend on food – but a nip of cognac from your hip flask."

The Chap Magazine