Club Amadeus

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Bongo - The boys are sweaty, the girls are sketty
Dont got bongo
Directed by A crow.
Written by M. Night. Shamalamalayan
Starring Woody as Chief Stalker

The crows
Bouncers
Cougars
Smokers

Produced by Some ginger
Distributed by Northallerton.
Release date 1800s.
Runtime 10pm til 3am.
Language English
Budget As much as you can fit in you wallet.
IMDb page


“No no no, I said chavs, sluts and the Hawaiian shirt guy only...”
~ God on the creation of Club Amadeus
“It's fucking ace mate, hav ya got 20p I cud boraaaa”
~ A chav on Club Amadeus & his imaginary bus fare home
“An exceptionally attractive young lady gave me a blumpkin in the toilets, once. I was then rather perturbed when she asked me to give her one.”
~ Oscar Wilde on women of the Bongo

Club Amadeus (Northallerton) is the best club in the United Kingdom by far. A night in Northallerton can never be considered a real night out without finishing it off by hitting this club. Unless you're a fan of Elders The Masons Arms, which is to say, either 14 or gay.

edit History

Club pic

Girls of the club playing, "Where's Wally"

Club Amadeus was erected in the 1800s, starting out as a brothel for tramps to spread their STDs if they had them, and receive them if they didn't. This concept remains to this day. Several nicknames of the club have existed since its days as a brothel: "The Bongo", originated because the prostitutes were considered objects that you could 'beat' and tap like a bongo drum. "El Bongo", was a variation on this when the prostitutes seemed to become more Hispanic as the years went on. The Bongo has an evil twin called 'Bar 100', which is so evil that nothing ever happens there; it will bore the living shit out of you. Club Amadeus' bouncers earn their reputation not for the lack of air they get at birth (causing their apparent brain damage), but for their tendency to fail in the most basic of bouncerial jobs: not letting the jail bait in. Not that anyone is complaining.

edit Geography

The club is accessible through 'piss alley', a blind spot connecting the High Street with Amadeus. The club is located in Northallerton, a town best described by Googlemaps as being north of Southallerton, northeast of Westallerton, and northwest of Germany.

edit Policies

Club Amadeus are very strict on it's policies. Here are the official policies of Club Amadeus:

  • Bouncers must ask for ID if anyone appears under 18 years of age. Except girls.
  • If any prepubscent female attempting to gain entry fails to wear at least 3 centimetres (1.18 inches) in layers of make-up from where her face starts and the blusher ends, she must be ID'd.
  • Any male not with a group of people, must be asked for ID even if you can tell they are actually over 18. This will make you, the bouncer, feel like a real man, and will really piss the customer off when they have to show you ID and they see that twat who is three years younger than them smoking in the smoking cage, even though they're not legally allowed to be in the club, or even be smoking for that fucking matter.
  • If you work at the bar and spill a drink on someone, promise them a free drink, wipe up the counter, serve someone else and forget the incident ever occurred when the customer enquires about the free drink. This way, we can seem so dedicated to customer satisfation that we can make "genuine" human errors. All four times you stained my fucking corduroys.
  • If you work in the cloakroom you must prevent the customer from leaving before 3AM by constantly getting their request for, "the right fucking coat please", wrong. If the customer can't produce a raffle ticket they are quite clearly a coat-thief, hoping to get some randy old man's leather bomber-jacket so they can put it up on eBay for drug money.
  • If it is one of our customers birthdays we have a policy here at Club Amadeus that they receive a complimentary bottle of warm champagne. Obviously we will give no formal compliments with that complimentary champagne because let's be honest, it's not like it's easy to do.
  • Employ at least one toilet attendant, preferably black, to chant the customary rhymes to boost sales of knock-off aftershave and, almost inexplicably, Chupa Chups.
The club

People of the Bongo playing a game called, "Who's In My Mouth?"

edit Media controversy

For a brief period of time Club Amadeus was the talking point of Northallerton, and indeed the UK public as a whole, eventually gaining the club a mention on, "8 Out of 10 Cats". This publicity was inspired after the bouncers started handing out forms of contraception for free to females that came in because of the AIDS going around. It later transpired that this was not an NHS approved attempt at preventing STDs and - equally as bad - kids, but it was actually just a really shit 'pulling' technique the bouncers thought would be subtle, but oh so clever.

edit Prices

Friday night the Bongo is usually a quid to get in. The bargain lasts about as long as it take you to get in and realise that, no, the door to the smoking area was not locked after all, there was just no one in the club.

Saturday nights are always the better day to hit the Bongo if you ever decide to waste £7 on just standing around in an insanely hot room with lots of people that smell of sweat and urine. It's like paying to stand in a retirement home.

The drinks range from £8 to £30 depending on how little ice you want in your drink. If you ask for no ice they'll add some anyway just because they know you won't argue. And whatever you do, don't argue. Because they will stick their fingers in and fish the ice out, and then they will ask, "Is that good enough for you?", and you will politely nod.

  • Never take your eyes off your drink for even a second (regardless of your sex), because chances are you will black-out and wake up in a bathtub with your kidneys on eBay.

Back in the day when Bar 100 was called Maestros, they used to have a games room for anyone wanting to waste beer money on 46 seconds worth of gameplay on an arcade racing car game, that bears no resemblance to real driving at all with its 90s style graphics. The games room also had a Time Crisis arcade machine (that was never on) and a pool table that would only accept multiples of 60p before you realised there was one cue and no chalk. Alas, the pool table was replaced with a snooker table during Maestros' rebranding. This was a futile bid for Club Amadeus to appeal to the more civilised of Northallerton's residents. Why you'd want to play snooker when you're absolutely rat-arsed on Red Stripe, on a table soaked with beer, is a mystery to everyone but the owner of the business.

If you are an out-of-towner, otherwise known as a foreigner, and you need to get a taxi to anywhere outside of Northallerton, expect prices to be £20-£500 after midnight. These robbing bastards (usually foreign themselves) have an agreement with the club that even if you don't need a taxi, if you are paraletic the bouncers will force you into one, and the taxi fare will be split between cab company and club owner.

Outside the club

A typical saturday night at Club Amadeus. Entry will usually take 10-15 minutes due to queues dyslexic bouncers trying to read your ID

edit The Hawaiian Shirt Guy

Affectionately known as the 'Where's Wally' of Club Amadeus for his bi-weekly cameo appearances. Simply knowing of the Hawaiian Shirt Guy means you spend too much time in the club. His unkempt facial hair, bright orange Hawaiian shirt and gold neck chain are the glasses, red-and-white striped shirt and walking stick of his 'Where's Wally' badass style getup. It is a common belief that the Hawaiian Shirt Guy has danced with more half-dressed boys and girls than Gary Glitter has in his entire lifetime. Having your photo taken with this man is like having your photo taken with an overgrown cardboard cut out of an umpa lumpa.

edit Smoking Area

The cage. This is the only part of the club where you can get away from the stale air that hangs above the dance floor. If you are seeking some fresh air then you are shit out of luck because this is the only place to get it. You can almost taste the irony.

edit Leaving

So, you've paid extortionate prices, had drinks spilled on you, witnessed your mum sucking your mate's tongue, had cougars relentlessly pinch your bum, drunk warm champagne and had your coat lost by the cloakroom staff. Now the lights are coming on and it's time for the ordeal to finally finish. You will be fucking lucky if you can get a taxi, because for some reason the people who could barely even walk out the club are now sprinting to make sure you don't get the taxi you've waited longer than anyone else for. Going to Club Amadeus is like donating at a sperm bank, you'll feel like a massive wanker just for coming.

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