001 | Pilot

Celebrity gossip has NEVER been juicer than this. 

Like, literally. It’s the 1660s. We just invented celebrities last week.

A washed-up, jaded gossip podcast host is transported to 1660s London in the thick of England's Stuart Restoration following a freak matcha-spilling accident. There, he meets the famed diarist Samuel Pepys, whose writings give us a first-hand peek into the world of Restoration theatre and the beginnings of modern celebrity culture. Convinced he needs to learn something about this era to get back to our time, the Podcaster and Pepys strike a deal to work together and achieve their respective goals. 

S1 of The Peek Stars: 

Samuel Pepys – Ethan Peña Mock

The Stranger / Valentino – Charlie B. Foster

Jane Birch – Melissa Bautista

Guest Starring: 

Francesca Pinilla (Nell Gwyn), Anna Mayo (Elizabeth Pepys), Kana Seiki (Emily the Intern), Eunan Cannon (Priest/Stagehand), Celeste Samson (Boy/Witch), James Kenna (Sir Thomas Killigrew), Aaron Dorelien (Sir William Davenant), Jacqueline McKenna (Mary Knep), Alex Ramirez Cannon (Thomas Betterton), James Carlos Lacey (King Charles II), Zachary Harrison Poli (The Bard), and Lee Melillo (Aphra Behn). 

Written and Directed by Lee Melillo

Additional Script Edits by Charlie B. Foster 

Executive Produced by Anna Mayo & Lee Melillo

Associate Produced by Adeline Blue

Support the show by Subscribing! 

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Episode transcripts here: thepeekwithsamuelpepys.com/transcripts

For social media and everything else: https://linktr.ee/thepeekwithsamuelpepys

Transcript

The Podcaster: 0:15

Our thanks to Tastables for sponsoring that last segment. Tastables, our cheese isn't moldy. It's not real cheese. So shut up and eat your crackers. Tastables. Now, for today's final topic, and this is a big one, Peep Squad, so stick around for us finally going there. That's right. We're talking second generation plastic surgery. Let's discuss which celebrity nepo babies have gotten nose jobs to match their famous parents. Wait, hold on. Pause. Hey, Emily? Eminem? Can we chat? Thanks.

Emily the Intern: 0:57

Stop calling me Eminem. No

The Podcaster: 0:58

thanks. This segment's stupid.

Emily the Intern: 1:01

This one? As opposed to every other one?

The Podcaster: 1:05

There's that flat formulaic Gen Z humor that I cannot stand. I'm just, uh... Isn't there anything more substantial to talk about this week more than nepo noses? Not trying to be a needy dickhead, but you've been giving me literally nothing to work with for months now.

Emily the Intern: 1:21

Okay. Well, first, the nepo hate train is still going strong, still very relevant, so don't pretend I'm giving you old news. Like, all my love to Margaret Qualley and Jack Quaid and those strange, strange SNL boys. But the others? Boo-hoo! Go to med school if you can't take the heat! And second, you need listeners. Got it? Not substance. We all want to eat,

The Podcaster: 1:47

right? I see. You're phoning it in because you want a raise.

Emily the Intern: 1:50

Dude, I'm getting paid in class credit.

The Podcaster: 1:54

Do you want another credit?

Emily the Intern: 1:57

Not how it works. Then what do you- If you don't like the segment, that's fine. But I did not have the spiritual fortitude to make another one, so like, on you to replace it. Also, just pointing out, we're like super over time because you took forever trying to get the cashier at Cava to give you extra pita bread, and I have class in 20 minutes downtown. So, I gotta go. You're

The Podcaster: 2:20

joking.

Emily the Intern: 2:21

Am I? Listen, it's cool you're suddenly like in it for the love of the art form, but this is a celebrity gossip pod, not the New Yorker. The Neponoses are there to use if you want them. I spent like two hours doing research on some incredibly troubling subreddits, so I'd prefer they didn't go to waste. But that's up to you. I'm out.

The Podcaster: 2:41

Emily. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. Our final topic is... Second generation plastic surgery. Let's discuss which celebrity nipple babies have gotten nose jobs to match their... Oh my god, this is so bad. This is so awful. I hate this. I hate this. This... I want to bash my head in with a rock and find the world's best neurosurgeon to reconstruct the brittle fragments of my skull and a never-before-seen miracle surgery just so I can bash it in again. Our final topic is... You know what? Here's my final topic. I've been in entertainment journalism for, damn, 24 years now? 30, if you count the list I kept of who was hooking up with who in high school. Used to sell that thing bi-monthly for three bucks a pop. And honestly, honestly, it was so much better, so much more relevant and real than this, this shit show. Nepo, baby, nose jobs, we're barely talking about real celebrities anymore. This is like... celebrity circumjacent. You want an interesting topic? Here you go. How did we get here? Why do we care about this? I'm sitting in a studio I rent for 2k a month, pushing some evil 20 dumb year olds moldy sandwiches to kids who probably don't know why Brittany shaved her head. And I, I can't stop asking that question. Like really, does anyone know? What was it like before celebrities? Was there even a before celebrities? I'd sell a kidney to go to before celebrities so I can fight the bastard who created them for ruining my life. My matcha, motherfucker!

Puritan Priest: 4:41

Repent, brothers and sisters. I say repent. Shun the hedonistic ways of the libertine demon, King Charles II. For the almighty father I love and fear will never put such a twisted beast on the throne. Look at what he's brought us. Infidelity, gluttony, fallen women, tears. What the... Where... Go sew your lips shut with a rusty needle, you wicked Puritan. Sob about theater's return on your traitor Lord Cromwell's grave. Oh wait, he doesn't have one because we played him. Silence, Samuel Pepys, you wicked fop.

The Podcaster: 5:18

Be gone. Be gone yourself. Didn't I tell those nerds across the hall no LARPing before 10 a.m.? Who are- Why are you in my house? Your house? This is not your house. Why are you dressed like the Crucible? The what? Why are you dressed like- Like...

Emily the Intern: 5:42

Actually, what are you dressed like? It's ghastly.

The Podcaster: 5:45

Gask, this is Valentino. Head to toe. Clock it.

Emily the Intern: 5:50

Valen... Oh, an Italian. I understand your strangeness now. Are you a friend of Master Peeps?

The Podcaster: 6:00

Peeps? Peeps? Sure, P-Dog. And I go way back. Dog? Where? Is it rabbit? Lady, I'm a level with you, alright? I don't know how I got here or where here is. Best guess, I crashed out of the club because I took too much of my assistant's special K and got kidnapped. Again, and whoever nabbed me dropped me at this, what is it, a renaissance fair? Gross. But I just love to get home and resume my attempts to not kill myself. So, while I deeply appreciate your commitment to your work, hobby, whatever, please drop the act and point me in the best direction to order an Uber 2, please. What is... Renaissance? That is what Ren Faire is short for, yeah? Renaissance? Okay, I guess if you're working here, you probably didn't go to Stanford. The Renaissance. Da Vinci. The Sistine Chapel? Shakespeare? Shakespeare? Why do you speak that old heck? Has Master Papes never complained to him to you? That must be him. Oh, you'll fetch him. What was your name again?

Speaker 04: 7:06

Uh...

The Podcaster: 7:06

Valentino. Of course. Scoots-a-me. Sir? Okay, this is, like, very elaborate for a prank. My phone. Where is my phone? Okay, rewind. I woke up. I got my kava. I went to the studio, crushed out on Emily, and spilled my matcha. And then... And then I... I don't remember. What the hell is that? Is that... Horse? Horses? What is... I... Am I... Is this... Actually... No. No way. That's dumb. That's dumb. This isn't... That is a goat. A goat clomping on a dirt road. That is definitely... Ciao! I mean, yes. Good... Sir... Valentino? That's me. Your friend. Valentino. You're not my friend. Okay. Ouchie. Are you injured? Only in my heart. Actually, falling on my ass kind of hurt. What was it? I fell on my mic? Why do I have my mic? Sir Valentino, apologies for my bluntness, but what business have you in my own? You tell me, Quaker Oats. Why am I here? You speak strangely. Are you perhaps from a foreign land and have come searching for work? What is your trade? I run the Peekaboo podcast. You know it. Don't stare at me like I have three heads. Sure, it's not as popular as it used to be, but come on. Don't be a dick. It's an entertainment journalism show. Fine. Okay. It's a celebrity gossip podcast, but it's very famous, so... I fear I am unfamiliar. I got that. Thanks. Also, what is celebrity? What do you mean? That word. Celebrity? Is that the correct pronunciation? You need me to define celebrity? That would be most helpful. Sorry, is this still part of the act, or are you stupid? Jane! Yes, sir? Have you ever heard of a celebrity? Horrid vegetable. Stringy. Flavorless.

Jane Birch: 9:25

Sinister.

The Podcaster: 9:27

Sinister? Not celery, you simple fool. Celebrity.

Jane Birch: 9:32

Can't say I have, sir.

The Podcaster: 9:34

Thank you. You may take your leave. Now, Jane may be uneducated and a woman, but she knows a great deal of uncommon words in spite of this. If she does not know what a celebrity is, neither do I. Which is all to say, fuck off. What? If you shan't explain, then you shall fuck off. Celebrity. Famous person. Such as the king. Sort of, but... Or perhaps you mean like Jesus Christ? That's closer, but no. How about Jack the Joiner? Everyone knows Jack the Joiner. Of course, he isn't really a joiner. He isn't really anything. I suppose he must have been a joiner at some point in his life, but then again, he is blind. And missing one hand. And all his teeth. Which shouldn't affect one's joining abilities, but it's difficult to attract business when each time you speak... The festering pink mass of your gums is all the eye can see. But he never aims to talk about joining. Mostly stews. Oh, Jack the joiner, he loves a stew. All he eats, all he can eat. Every tavern in London has gotten a visit from Jack, regardless if they sell stew. He'll beg them to whip something up. The kinder of the lot often will, but most send him back out onto the street, where he limps and wails,

Samuel Pepys: 10:57

Stew! Stew! Quite

The Podcaster: 11:04

a sight, I assure you. Which is why all who have been present for one of Jack the Joiner's stew barrages remember it for life. Really is something. Ah, did I mention he's also from Leeds? How he made his way down here, I'll never know. Someone like that? Um, somehow, that is the closest example so far, but not quite. I'm talking like actors, musicians, comedians. Com-comedians? Uh, I mean, jesters? Yuck. I am no lover of their jokes. But actors? Where you come from, they are celebrity. Uh, yes. So they are respected? Depends on who you ask. I'd say we generally see them as special.

Speaker 04: 11:52

What

The Podcaster: 11:53

a jeep! Oh, I'll have to write that down. Actors. Respected. Special. What a fantastical, ridiculous concept. What's that? My diary. Beginning the 1st of January, 1660, I resolved to start recording my daily life. Uh-huh. Your New Year's resolution for 1660? New Year's Resolution. An apt descriptor. Yes, Valentino. Exactly. What do you write about in 1660, which is where, when, we are? My opinions on the theater, liaisons between actors, dramatic secrets. You can imagine why I keep them to myself. As nary a soul alive, I'd be interested in such trivial things. About actors, no less. Oh, buddy, you were born in the wrong century. However, do you mean? Someday the world will kill to re... Well, listen to this kind of stuff. Unlikely. Here we have no celebrities, so what you speak of is not achievable to me. No celebrities yet. A time before celebrities. Just what I... That's it. That must be why I'm here. Assuming this is not a drug-induced psychosis. Maybe, like, God wants me to get to the roots of all this so I can rip them out. Aha. At last. Your trade. You are a farmer. No, peeps-o-bismol, I am not. I am a celebrity gossip podcaster, and you are too. Even if you don't know it. Please, stop using these words. They frighten me. Don't care. This must be it. This must be like... Divine intervention. I asked to find something substantial to talk about and here it is. Please explain. How badly would you like your diaries to be remembered? No, not even that. Revered by millions of people. My good man. I highly doubt there are a million people on Earth. And moreover, how would I reach them all? Most are illiterate. Don't worry. It's like that where I come from too. Which is why I use... All of this. A bunch of rocks. Don't ask me to explain the mechanics of podcasting equipment. I have no clue. I can't be that guy for you. But here, speak into this part. Whatever shall I say? Perfect! Let's just hit the playback. Whatever shall I say? Well? Well, what? Shouldn't you accuse me of being a witch now? Why would I? Because I showed you a magic soundbox that captures voices?

Unknown: 14:39

Hmm...

The Podcaster: 14:40

Yes, I suppose it would be appropriate. But the Puritans aren't in charge anymore, are they? Are they? Nope. As a matter of fact, the king is executing one of the radicals who assassinated his father this very eve. Would you like to come? I'm going to pass, but what do you think? Of the magic box? It is unnatural and certainly a work of the devil. I am intrigued. What is it you want in return for me? speaking my diaries into it. Let me stay here. And while I do, I want you to teach me about your actors, about your theater, all of it. I want to know how it started. So when I go back to where I'm from, I'll know how to stop it. I mean, explain it to the people from my world of Italia. Apologies. I fear I've heard this story before. You catty bitch you would have killed on TNZ. TMZ? It's not a groundbreaking plot, no, but that's how I know it'll work. It's the classic time travel narrative arc. I have to learn something to get back home. Learn something? Surely a boat would be less taxing. A boat? To Italia, where you are from. Ah, no boats for me, thank you. Unless there's a pina colada in one hand and a bottle of Xanax in the other. I don't do water travel. You are a strange man. As am I. I accept your deal, Italian devil man. Sweet, up top. That is called a high five. A high... Oh, because there are five fingers. Toodaloo. Yo, peepsaroni, where are you going? I have everything set up to record. I told you, the execution. Everyone in London will be there. I'll have to arrive early if I have any hope of seeing the traitor's head roll. Fine, but... Can we try recording an intro first to seal the deal? Intro? Like, explain what the podcast is going to be about. You poor Italian fool. The word is prologue. Whatever, come here. Hello there, listeners, new and old. This is Valentino, and I'm here with... Say your name. Samuel Pepys. Samuel Pepys, the premier celebrity gossip podcaster of 1660. And we're here with this new show, The Peak. Good one. Definitely not stolen from mine at all. The Peak with Samuel Pepys. We're going to investigate how celebrities came to be and how to stop it all from going wrong. What was that last part? So stay tuned. You truly earn wages for this. How about that execution? Didn't you say you were uninterested in attending? Did I? Sounds fake. I've never seen one before, but when in Rome? London.

Unknown: 17:44

London.

Emily the Intern: 18:02

class got cancelled so i figured i'd come back in hello hello what did you what the fuck is a chicken doing here you're not you're not him are you