THE ROVING PECKER PRESENTS: "The Tales Of Peckerwood Manor - Episode Two: Garden Party Pandemonium" by Kombitcha!

Welcome, Manor Hors, to The Roving Pecker, where we present the latest episode of "The Tales Of Peckerwood Manor" by our very own Kombitcha! Any resemblance to actual Manor Hors is intentional, except when it's not. Enjoy!

TITLE: “Garden Party Pandemonium”

EXT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – GARDEN – DAY

The camera zooms in on Bree, who’s battling a pile of costume pieces, preparing for the fancy-dress garden party. Nearby, Raincoaster is scribbling in her notebook, pondering the mystery symbols, half-focused on the chaos around her. Kombitcha is anxiously eyeing a suspicious bag labeled “Glitter Galore.”

BREE
(whispering to herself)
This garden party is more chaotic than a cat in a room full of laser pointers.
(alarmed) 

Is that glitter?! 

KOMBITCHA 

Glitter is the herpes of the arts and craft world. You can never get rid of it.

BREE
(grimacing)
Let’s set up a no-glitter zone. For the love of sequins, I refuse to turn this place into a disco ball of doom. And speaking of sequins, where are the ones I ordered? They’re crucial for the theme.

RAINCOASTER
(a titter)
Maybe they’ve gone missing with the ghosts of crafts past, plotting their revenge.

Cut to Chase, who bursts in wearing a glittery leotard.

CHASE
Did someone say “sequins”? Because I’m ready to sparkle brighter than all your dreams.

BREE
(rolling her eyes)
And here I thought we were going for elegance, not a glitter bomb gone rogue. Dear lord, I have a headache and there's only one solution. 

(crying out)

Release the Bendy Boys™!

On cue, several barely-clad Bendy Boyz™ grand jette out, then happily pose, dance and twerk. Bree smiles, sighing with relief. 

INT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – PARLOUR, DAY - SAME TIME

RichBitch is pouting, adjusting his sunglasses indoors. BlakBlu strolls in, all confidence.

RICHBITCH 

(muttering) 

I swear, if BlakBlu doesn’t flirt with me soon, I’ll have to turn this manor into a dating show.

BlakBlu approaches, completely oblivious, flexing for a nonexistent audience.

BLAKBLU

Anyone need muscle? I could lift the entire manor if needed.

RICHBITCH 

(rolling his eyes) 

Muscle is fine, but a little charm wouldn’t hurt either.

BlakBlu laughs, completely missing the hint, and RichBitch sighs in exaggerated exasperation.

INT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – RAINCOASTER’S OFFICE – DAY - SAME TIME

Raincoaster is hunched over her desk, scribbling in her notebook. Caza enters, looking disinterested but curious.

RAINCOASTER
(to herself) 

If I can crack the case of the missing sequins, I can finally focus on the real mystery—the strange symbols popping up all over the manor.

CAZA
Are you still on about those “mystery symbols”? Maybe they’re just Bree’s doodles from a glitter-induced coma.

RAINCOASTER
(deadpan)
Doodles don’t spell out ancient curses, Caza. Unless Bree's craft supplies are haunted, I’d say we’ve got something bigger on our hands.

CAZA
Ooo, maybe we’re cursed! Doomed to live in a manor filled with bedazzled ghosts and endless glitter. Sounds like my worst nightmare.

RAINCOASTER
(smirking)
Haunted by bad taste, maybe. But I’m going to crack this case, one sparkle at a time. So, Caza, you do remember admitting that you borrowed Bree’s dress, right?

CAZA
(turning with a mock gasp)
“Borrowed” is such a strong word. I prefer “liberated for artistic expression!”

RAINCOASTER
Artistic? You do know it’s a crime scene, not a runway, right?

CAZA
Only if the jury doesn’t appreciate my vision.

RAINCOASTER
So, Caza, tell me—are you “borrowing” sequins, or just hoarding them for your next fashion heist? Because you’re giving off serious “guilty glam” vibes.

CAZA
(dramatically clutching their chest)
Me? I’m as innocent as a freshly opened bottle of champagne! But if you find any sequins, I’ll gladly “liberate” them back to their rightful place—on me.

As Caza exits, he “accidentally” knocks a glitter bottle off the shelf. It explodes in a shimmer cloud, coating the room. Raincoaster sighs, unfazed.

INT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – LIBRARY – DAY

Ecce lounges in a plush armchair, dramatically fanning himself with a slightly crumpled love letter.

ECCE
(reading aloud with flair)
“My dearest Ecce, your bendy charms have twisted my heart into knots...”
(to himself, wistfully)
Oh, sweet nothings! But who could be so audacious to capture my attention?

Just then, Flora Posteschild bursts in, a whirlwind of glamour and slight disarray, instantly commanding the room.

FLORA
Ecce! Are you rehearsing for a soap opera, or merely trying to summon a breeze with those dramatic gestures?

ECCE
What can I say? I’m a magnet for drama—just like this letter! Care to help me decipher the cryptic affections?

FLORA
Oh, honey, are we talking love triangles or an acrobatic routine?

ECCE
Let’s just say my heart’s up for grabs, but I’m still waiting for the main act to reveal themselves. But if I don’t figure this out soon, I might end up tangled in more than just my feelings!

FLORA
(laughing, shaking her head)
Oh, Ecce, darling, if you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a tangled mess and no one to help you untie it. But hey, at least you'll look fabulous in the process!
sShe winks, then leans back with a smirk.)
Just don’t come crying to me when your love life turns into a circus act... unless, of course, there’s popcorn.

EXT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – GARDEN – MAKEUP TENT – DAY

The makeup tent is a burst of colors and beauty supplies, a chaotic yet glamorous setup. Caza is in his element, dressed in an encrusted chest plate and jockstrap; clearly inspired by his current fashion inspiration, Jojo Siwa. He enthusiastically applies makeup to a nervous party guest, Manderley.

CAZA
(excited, holding up a makeup brush)
Darling, by the time I’m done, you’ll look like a living masterpiece! Think Picasso meets Paris Fashion Week!

Manderley looks unsure but nods.

MANDERLEY
Uh, okay... I trust you?

Caza starts applying layers of bold, vibrant colors, completely over-the-top, as if he’s painting a canvas.

CAZA
Trust the process, sweetheart. You’ll be the talk of the party!

Just then, RichBitch enters, with a raised eyebrow, eyeing Caza’s extreme makeover.

RICHBITCH
Oh honey, please tell me you’re not letting Caza turn you into a garden-party Picasso.

Caza spins around, still holding a lipstick.

CAZA
You can’t deny my art is fabulous.

RichBitch surveys Manderley’s colorful face and shakes his head.

RICHBITCH
Fabulous? Sweetie, it’s giving ‘circus chic’—but I’m sure someone will appreciate the effort. Just not BlakBlu.

As Manderley stumbles out, overwhelmed by the avant-garde explosion of color, Richbitch dramatically drops into the chair.

RICHBITCH
(flipping his hair)
Alright, if I’m going to grab BlakBlu’s attention, I need to look flawless, not like a sideshow act. Do me proud. And for the love of God, no clown paint!

CAZA
(gleefully)
Honey, you’re always divine. I’ll just polish the diamond. Lean back. Good. Now chin up. Both of them. Ah hahahahaha!

INT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – KITCHEN

FewWords is experimenting with a new dish while BaconSlut sips her signature Bacontini, eyeing him with skepticism.

FEWWORDS
(excitedly)
Behold, my culinary masterpiece: Anchovy Marshmallow Soufflé with Spicy Maple Glaze!

BACONSLUT
(disgusted)
That dish should come with a warning label - and a paramedic on standby.

Nubs, BaconSlut’s cat, jumps onto the counter, cautiously sniffing the concoction before recoiling dramatically, bolting from the room.

BACONSLUT
(laughing, waving her Bacontini)
If your culinary skills were any worse, we’d have to start charging admission for this kitchen disaster.

A sizzling sound suddenly erupts from the stovetop. A small flame shoots up, causing FewWords to leap back.

FEWWORDS
Oh no! It’s trying to escape!

The flame grows, but FewWords frantically swats at it.

FEWWORDS
(breathing heavily)
I swear, it’s just a minor flare-up!

BACONSLUT
You call that a flare-up? Paris Hilton has a flare up - honey, this is a five-alarm fire waiting to happen!

FewWords is furiously fanning the stove, which now has a small blaze flickering. BaconSlu watches in horror.

BACONSLUT
I told you that dish would bring the heat, but this is ridiculous! We need a fire extinguisher, like, now!

FewWords panics, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it on the flames, which only makes them worse.

FEWWORDS
I thought water fixes fire!

BACONSLUT
(eyeing him incredulously)
This isn’t a campfire, genius. It’s a grease fire.

BaconSlut snatches a fire extinguisher off the wall, spraying the stove. Foam covers everything, including Fewwords, and the flames finally die out.

Fewwords panics and runs outside, with Nubs the cat dashing out behind him.

BACONSLUT
(sighing with relief, shaking her head)
I think it’s time we ban FewWords from anything involving heat—or common sense.

She catches her breath and wipes foam off her clothes, then suddenly hears the distinct sound of fireworks launching nearby.

BACONSLUT
(looking around, deadpan)
Great, and now we've upgraded from grease fires to pyrotechnics. What's next? Burning down the whole manor for a viral post?

EXT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – GARDEN – DAY

The garden is a riot of colors, with guests in outrageous hats and cocktails that look like they belong in a circus. Bree, frazzled and fabulous, attempts to rein in the chaos.

RICHBITCH 

(leaning against a lavish fountain, eyeing BlakBlu flexing for an eager crowd)
Honestly, it’s like watching a peacock trying to impress a bunch of pigeons. He’s all fluff and no substance!

BlakBlu, completely oblivious, throws his head back in laughter, making the crowd swoon.

KOMBITCHA 

(steps up to RichBitch; laughing with delight)
Sweetie, he’s not fluff—he’s a full-on feather boa! But let’s be real: you’d need a telescope to get his attention.

RICHBITCH
How dare you! I’m practically a national treasure! If I can’t snag his interest, what hope is there for the rest of humanity?

KOMBITCHA
Let’s not forget, you’re an acquired taste, like caviar in a world of potato chips. Subtlety is key.

RichBitch straightens up, flipping his hair back with flair.

RICHBITCH
Oh, please. I’m more like a gourmet meal in a fast-food joint. Who wouldn’t want a taste?

BlakBlu, overhearing, strolls over with a cocky grin, flexing his biceps like a walking ad for protein shakes.

BLAKBLU
What’s cooking, fabulous? You look like you just stepped out of a high-fashion runway!

RichBitch instantly perks up, tossing his hair with dramatic flair.

RICHBITCH
Just serving looks and side-eyes, darling! You know how it is—trying to keep the peasants entertained!

BlakBlu laughs, completely missing the shade, and glances around.

BLAKBLU
You definitely brought the sparkle today. But be careful—you might blind someone with that shine.

RichBitch watches BlakBlu saunter away, an exaggerated pout forming.

RICHBITCH 

(to Kombitcha)
And there he goes, off to dazzle the masses while I stand here like yesterday’s leftovers!

Kombitcha clinks her drink against his, grinning wide.

KOMBITCHA
Don’t sweat it, diva. The best leftovers always make a comeback—just gotta add a little heat.

They both laugh as the party rages on, the chaos wrapping around them like a fabulous, frenzied bow.

CUT TO: A group of partygoers gathered around a costume contest, showcasing wild outfits, some looking more like fashion disasters than anything else. Raincoaster, in full detective mode with a magnifying glass, inspects a suspicious costume.

RAINCOASTER
(intrigued)
Excuse me, but is that a hat or a cry for help? Because I’m getting mixed signals here.

The crowd erupts in laughter as she jots down notes on a notepad labeled “Fashion Crimes.”

Bree, trying to keep the peace, approaches the stage where a frantic host Omar is struggling to keep things on track.

OMAR
(voice cracking)
And the winner of the costume contest is... uh, whoever that is in the inflatable giant phallus. 

The GIANT PHALLUS does a suggestive dance, and the crowd bursts into raucous cheers and laughter.

EXT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – GARDEN – DAY – SAME TIME

Raincoaster is crouched near a bush, carefully inspecting a trail of scattered sequins. Caza casually strolls over, sipping on an elaborate iced drink, dressed in a bedazzled jockstrap and chest plate, clearly inspired by his current fashion icon Jojo Siwa.

RAINCOASTER
(whispering)
Sequins. A clue. But what’s the connection?

CAZA
(smirking, nonchalant)
Oh honey, it’s probably just Nubs. That cat’s got better style than half this house.

Caza points over to Nubs, BaconSlut’s cat, lounging on a nearby bench, casually batting a sequin with its paw.

RAINCOASTER
(serious)
Nubs. I should’ve known. This feline has a history of petty theft.

CAZA
(mockingly gasping)
And here I thought you were investigating a real mystery!

Suddenly, a loud POP goes off nearby, followed by a shower of glitter raining down on everyone. Raincoaster freezes, covered head to toe in glitter, while Caza stands still, unbothered and amused.

RAINCOASTER
(startled)
What the hell was that?!

CAZA
Oh, just a little sparkle to brighten your dull day.

Bree rushes over, clearly exhausted and frustrated from managing the chaos.

BREE
Glitter?! Why is there glitter everywhere?! Again?!

CAZA
(sassy)
Because, darling, a party without glitter is just a meeting.

Just as Bree attempts to regain control of the chaos...Andy Dick bursts into the garden with a fireworks launcher, glitter clinging to his clothes, and a megaphone in his other hand. His wild entrance makes it clear he’s the culprit behind the glitter catastrophe, strutting in like he’s the star of the show.

ANDY DICK
(through the megaphone)
GLITTER EVERYWHERE! WHO NEEDS CONFETTI WHEN YOU’VE GOT THIS?! LET’S TURN IT UP!

Andy grabs Clicquot, who is standing nearby, and twirls him in circles.

Guests cheer and start dancing in the glitter, embracing the chaos. Bree sighs in disbelief, as the garden party spirals further into madness. Raincoaster just shrugs, covered in sparkles, and makes a note in her “Fashion Crimes” notebook.

ANDY DICK
(loudly)
Hey, you fabulous freaks! It’s time for the most ridiculous dance-off of your lives! I want to see moves so wild they’d make your grandma blush and a stripper cry! Let’s get weird, people!

RICHBITCH
This party’s gone from high tea to a circus in three seconds flat. I love it!

KOMBITCHA
Ah, mate, just remember—sometimes it’s more about the glittery mess than the actual masterpiece, yeah?

As they sip their drinks, the camera pulls back, revealing a wild scene of laughter, costumes, and absolute mayhem.

EXT. PECKERWOOD MANOR – GARDEN – DAY - SAME TIME

The garden party has devolved into a wild, chaotic dance-off with Andy Dick shouting commands through a megaphone. Suddenly, he launches fireworks, sending everyone into a frenzy.

BREE
(screaming)
What in the name of sequins was that?!

Everyone turns just as FewWords comes sprinting out of the house, panicked and disheveled, and covered head-to-toe in extinguisher foam, shortly followed by BaconSlut.

BACONSLUT
(shouting)
The kitchen! It’s—

FEWWORDS
(coughing, interrupting)
Don’t worry! I handled it! Just a small fire!

BACONSLUT
(savagely, wiping foam from her face)
You handled it? Dood, the only thing you handled was nearly burning the Manor down while I turned into a human fire extinguisher. 

FEWWORDS
It wasn’t that bad...?

BACONSLUT
Not that bad? Look at me. I’m wearing extinguisher foam like it’s my new perfume, and the only thing that’s well-done here is my patience. I’m done. Someone else needs to take over supervising this walking catastrophe.

The camera pans across the garden to reveal utter chaos; Andy Dick laughs maniacally from the dancefloor, raising his megaphone to the crowd.

ANDY DICK
Now that’s what I call entertainment! Next time, let’s get sparklers!

Guests exchange bewildered looks as Bree stands frozen in horror, glitter and extinguisher foam mingling with the garden’s décor.

RICHBITCH
(rolling his eyes)
I’ll never understand how this place doesn’t burn down every week.

Everyone bursts into laughter just as the last firework fizzles out in the background.

As the garden party spirals further into madness, glitter floating through the air, music blaring, and guests wildly dancing, the scene slows, the noise fades...

...as the camera catches a shadowy figure emerging from behind the trellis at the far end of the garden. The figure pauses, the outline barely visible against the dim light, stylish and poised, draped in an impeccably tailored outfit, exuding an unmistakable aura of superiority.

The figure saunters through the glitter-covered crowd, their eyes scanning the chaotic scene before landing on RichBitch. 

The camera zooms in on RichBitch as his body tenses. His eyes widen, recognition flashing in an instant. Whoever this person is, it’s clear RichBitch did not expect to see them.

RICHBITCH
(under his breath, dripping with contempt)
Oh, I see. The Gucci knockoff no one asked for.

At last, we REVEAL THE FIGURE: 

None other than AMP, who dramatically walks through the room with impeccable posture. His two sleek cats trot loyally by his side. Following them, a strikingly well-groomed dog strides at his heels. Amp exudes calm confidence, wearing sunglasses despite the late hour. His pets are perfectly in sync with him, almost as if they were part of his entourage.

RichBitch narrows his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

RITCHBITCH

Well, well, well... look what the cats...

(glancing down at the dog, wrinkling his nose slightly)

...and the dog dragged in.

Amp chuckles, seemingly unfazed.

AMP

Tragedy, please, still clinging to those tired one-liners? I expected something a wee bit less, oh, let's see....tired? Basic? Wrinkled?

The tension in the air is palpable, with the partygoers stealing glances between the two longtime rivals, clearly eager to see what happens next. The animals remain poised beside Amp, as if they too sense the brewing storm.

RICHBITCH
And you. What are you wearing, last season’s regrets?

AMP
I’m just here to remind you who the real star is.

RICHBITCH
Star? Honey, this is my show. You’re just the opening act.

AMP
Not for long, twat. May I call you twat? I’m planning on sticking around. It’s clear I’m desperately needed around here.

RichBitch’s jaw clenches slightly, not wanting to show his irritation.

RICHBITCH
You’ll have to try harder than that. This is Peckerwood Manor, not your little playground.

AMP
Oh, I plan to make my mark - a big one. 

Suddenly, the air shifts immediately, as LUCILLE BLUTH arrives. The guests part like she’s royalty. Her sunglasses reflect the afternoon light as she takes a sip from the glass in her hand, already half-empty with what is unmistakably straight vodka.

RichBitch and Amp are mid-standoff when they spot her arrival. 

LUCILLE
(eyeing the party)
Well if it isn’t a celebration of poor life choices.

Her gaze settles on RichBitch and Amp, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.

LUCILLE
(to RichBitch)
You didn’t tell me the house was infested with riff-raff.

RichBitch beams, soaking in the shade as Amp’s smirk falters for a second.

RICHBITCH
Oh, Lucille, you always know how to liven things up. We were just... catching up.

AMP
That’s one way to put it.

Lucille gives Amp a quick up-and-down glance, her face unreadable but judgmental.

LUCILLE
I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure I won’t care long enough to find out.

Amp grins, unfazed, as RichBitch struggles to suppress his laughter.

AMP
I’m not just here for the party, Lucille. I plan to stay. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me.

LUCILLE
(mock surprise)
Staying? How quaint. Just remember, sugar, squatting isn’t a career.

RICHBITCH
I’ll drink to that.

Lucille saunters past them, waving dismissively. She approaches the main table, scanning the partygoers with a look of mild disdain.

LUCILLE
(raising her voice)
Let’s see if anyone here can entertain me for more than five minutes, or is this just a room full of disappointments?

RICHBITCH

(whispers to Amp)
You’re in over your head, dear. This is my terrain. There's only room for one queen at Peckerwood Manor.

AMP

Really? Game on, hussy.

RICHBITCH

Good luck, cuntress.

They clink champagne glasses, their expressions steely, their rivalry smoldering.

SCENE CUTS DRAMATICALLY

End of episode.