The success of my sit-com is my washroom-pass into the bright, glitzy world of stand-up comedy. No longer a novelty ashtray act I put my heart and soul, and many phone calls into playing some of the top-notch venues the U.K. has to offer. I am not booked at any of these venues, due to oversight, though 1972 sees me taken on board as a lounge act by glitzy scenester Randy Borehole.

Disappointingly this only has me playing Randy’s lounge, fabulous as it is, to only Randy. Luckily I soon bump into friend of my father’s, Sir Bernard Flowers, coarse-mouthed doyen of fogeydom and set up residence in ‘The Old Man’s Bar’, where I tend to the toilets and fill-in for sick acts such as ‘Naughty Uncle Wally’s Playtime Games’…