Correction Protocol is a tale of misapplied machine learning and one intern’s unexpectedly thorough performance review. When Jenna Marks wanders into the prototype labs, she unwittingly triggers a correctional sequence involving automated discipline, escalating misunderstandings, and the uncomfortable realisation that — to get ahead — you sometimes have to start from behind.
Act 1 – Meet the Robots
The soft lighting of Clarion Dynamics' empty offices cast an eerie glow over the deserted desks and darkened conference rooms. The only sound was the whir of computers and the faint thump of music drifting from the distant launch party. When the party invites went out, Jenna Marks was notably absent from the guest list.
She sat alone, burning with resentment, staring at the to-do list in front of her. The tasks blurred together as a constant reminder of her disgrace. She was alone, stuck, and frustrated that one small mistake had been enough to land her in this administrative purgatory.
Confessions of a Vicar’s Daughter is a tale of toasted buns, exposed hypocrisies, and one young lady’s intimate education in accountability. When the vicar’s golden-haired darling engineers a scorched teatime scandal, she anticipates a delicious view through the keyhole. But, what follows is a brisk turn of events, an unflinching lesson in consequences, and the most unwelcome use of a hairbrush.
Act 1 — Through the Keyhole
At first glance, Tabitha Bloom seemed like the very embodiment of virtue, a beacon of sweetness and light. As the beautiful, twenty year-old daughter of the vicar, her smile could make the sternest of hearts melt like butter on a warm crumpet. She was always ready to lend a helping hand, whether it was arranging the flowers for Sunday service, handing out scones at vicarage garden parties, or assisting her father in his duties. Her halo shone so brightly, no one noticed the horns hidden beneath her golden blonde curls. In every way, she should have appeared to be the perfect daughter.
At second glance, those who looked beyond her angelic façade might discover a more complex and intriguing personality, one that belied her initial purity. Perhaps slipping an occasional stinging-nettle into one of the flower arrangements, or contributing a splash of hot chilli sauce when spreading jam on the scones, or even replacing her father's sermon notes with a recipe for currant buns. Tabitha's fertile mind was like an iceberg: smooth on the surface, treacherous beneath, and always drifting toward someone else’s misfortune.
At the quaint parish of St. Agatha’s (Nether Wippley), decorum reigns — until Lettice Fallowfield’s sultry soprano and scandalous disregard for choir robes strike a chord that’s anything but sacred. With a flustered organist, an incriminating photograph, and the unyielding eye of Miss Thistlecroft upon her, Lettice soon learns that some consequences are felt below the waistline.
Act 1 – Treble Trouble
In the hushed sanctuary of St Agatha’s, Nether Wippley, the organ loft was bathed by a kaleidoscope of colours pouring through the stained glass windows. Douglas Cresswell, a keen amateur photographer when not occupied with organ duties, was in a flurry of artistic fervour and nervous energy. His eyes darted towards the vision that was Lettice – the most recent, and most delectable addition to St Agatha's choir.
The striking twenty year-old soprano was a veritable siren, whose voice was as sweet as her smile, and whose reputation was daringly unconventional.
When an ill-timed remark, and a cheeky glimpse of red silk delicates, cause a stir at the most respectable event of the parish calendar, Clara Pimm finds herself under the unyielding supervision of Miss Rosalind Fairleigh — a governess with a reputation as polished as her hairbrush. A tale of lace, lemonade, and lessons delivered with impeccable form.
Act 1 — Miss Pimm's Mischief
The vicarage garden party, highlight of the parish's social calendar, had reached its fragrant, bustling peak. Under a marquee adorned with bunting, the ladies of the district clustered like brooches on a pillow. Lace parasols bobbed gently as teacups clinked. The usual uninspiring raffle prizes, from toffees to a mechanical egg-whisk, were displayed on a linen-draped table.
At the centre of this meticulously arranged scene stood Miss Rosalind Fairleigh, a renowned governess known throughout the county for her stern demeanour and unyielding discipline. Tall and composed, her sharp blue eyes constantly assessed her surroundings, missing nothing and forgiving even less.
When spoiled heiress Chloe Buckingham hires a feng shui consultant to “fix the vibes” in her luxury apartment, she expects a few crystals and a mirror or two. However, discovering balance across a stern lap wasn't part of her plan. Consultant Joanne Parker understands that some energy misalignments stem not from the furniture, but from the client herself. This playful tale explores modern privilege, unconventional remedies, and the surprising art of hands-on recalibration.
Act I: The Chaotic Space
The scent of designer candles and freshly steamed curtains filled Chloe Buckingham’s new apartment as she flounced dramatically onto the overstuffed sofa. Her slim fingers flicked idly through her phone, sending bursts of emoji-laden texts to her friends. Oversized sunglasses perched atop her honey-blonde head, a signature affectation even when she was indoors. Across from her, Joanne Parker adjusted the angle of a floor lamp, pursed her lips, and tried her best not to sigh.
Joanne was used to demanding clients. She’d Feng Shui’d penthouses, country manors, and on one memorable occasion – even a yacht. But Chloe Buckingham, heiress and professional socialite, was testing her patience like no one before.
Doctor’s Orders is a tale of novel diagnosis, corrective remedies, and one young woman’s regrettable visit to the Netherby surgery. When Miss Patricia Featherstone seeks a cure for her chronic ennui, she discovers that Dr Blythe’s prescription is rather more hands-on than she anticipated. Treatment may be swift, but recovery costs her dignity, and complicates the seating arrangements.
Act I: Diagnosis and a Dreadful Prescription
The village surgery of Dr Algernon Blythe was a place of respectable gloom. The oak furniture was heavy and dark, the shelf was filled with vials that suggested unspeakable cures, and the anatomical posters looked suspiciously outmoded. The waiting room carried the inexplicable odour of all medical practices: camphor, boiled sweets, and repression.
Into this scene swept Miss Patricia Featherstone. Known as Patsy to most, and to some as “Not Her Again”. She trailed the scent of Chanel No. 5, blended with a whiff of faint indignation. Her sunglasses were unapologetically out of place. In any case, she was a young lady who never apologised anyway.
Clementine turns to a trusted advice column after an ill-advised bout of early morning skinny dipping leaves her quite literally exposed and at the mercy of Rose, the gardener’s assistant, whose bamboo cane proves surprisingly persuasive. A blushing confession of barefaced mischief, botanic discipline, and a young lady’s deepening appreciation for blooms and blushes.
The Skinny Dipping Incident
A breathless confession from Little Dithering, where one debutante's morning dip turns unexpectedly educational…
The campaign of comeuppance continues in this second letter from Clementine Beaufort-Smythe, who takes poetic revenge on her friend Poppy with a missing bathrobe, a damp corridor dash wearing only her birthday suit, and a close encounter with the Duchess. But has she gone too far — and what will Aunt Agatha say?
The Damp Corridor Dash
A scheming correspondent from Little Dithering pens a triumphant (if slightly soggy) update.
You will, I trust, permit me a little gloating. For after weeks of simmering injustice, I have at last balanced the scales, or rather, tipped them in my favour.