Petticoat Junction

The clink of delicate glasses and the wild laughter of the party consumed the room. This was quite a feat, for the room was sprawling with twenty foot high vaulted ceilings, adorned with intricate and abundant crown molding. The walls were a pretty pastel pink and the molding was robins egg blue. Contained in the room were at least thirty people in various positions: some were lounging on buttercup and lavender colored chaises and velveteen, pin-tucked poufs, while others stood against the single wall of pastel blue and pink striped wallpaper, looking out the window at the maze of statuesque shrubs and elegant roman era columns. 

The people themselves looked to have climbed out of the walls for they were in similar fashion. The ladies were ornamented with several bejeweled and haughty chokers and each had a glamorous pair of real diamond earrings on. Their gowns were captivating, each with a mile long fabric train. Some were gold and bronze striped, others were various shades of pastels, and some were simply glittering silver moonlight. Their hair made a stab at the ceiling, each wig being atleast a few feet in height. Some were simply silver curls but others were astonishing artistic displays of wealth above all else, but ships in a storm, or fires, or mountains, or really anything. The men had equal taste, each one seeming to match one of the ladies as if to show they belonged to one another. Their hair was just as wild and their brooches and heels stunning. They each held wads of dollars or had purple velvet bags full of coins and flaunted them promiscuously.

Just as the noise had reached it's peak, echoing off the vaulted ceiling and creating a dull roar, black tied butlers emerged through the doors by the dozen carrying polished silver trays covered by a dome. The butlers set the trays down on various tables, removing the tops and then disappearing all within the blink of an eye or the sparkle on a newly polished coin. The party goers attacked the platters of food; rightfully so as it was all so delicious looking. 

Adorable petit fours with technicolor icing and trivial fondant objects adorning them. Succulent roasted pigs and Cornish hens, the toasted brown skin still sizzling mildly for all those who were close enough. Eight tier cakes that towered above the party goers, painted with pastel icing, sitting elegantly on doilies. The people ate greedily, spellbound, taking hand fulls of food and shoving it into their mouths, cackling all the while. The hours ticked by, each time one tray was completed, the butlers would bring more. 

The people barely seemed to notice anything but the food. Steadily, they grew wider and shorter and more grotesque but it meant nothing to them; they couldn't tell. Their laughter echoed off the walls and beat into the brick; the room would start spinning now and again like a careening merry go round of hell but they paid no heed. Soon, some the party goers grew so plump and grotesque that they seemed to melt into hideous piles of goop the color of murky swamp water. 

The party-goers in their raised heels steeped around these piles, however, anxious to devour more food and howl some more. 

In only a matter of time, each guest had been reduced to a pile of bile on the rose gold tiled floor. Some, who were leaning on the walls, tainted the walls, staining them a most off putting shade of brown.

Slowly, the doors of the room started to close off and lock. At the final door, a hulking mass of family crested carved mahogany, one of the butlers loosened his tie, looked around, and smirked. 

Finally, the doors were closed and room was sealed.