The final rehearsal

Waffles stood just beyond the stage lights, his bowtie slightly askew from hours of pacing, planning, and perfecting. He had doubted himself more times than he could count, questioned if he could truly bring Baxter’s story to life in the way it deserbed. But now, as he watched the final rehearsal unfold before him, all that doubt melted away. The stage was alibe wiff energy—the warm glow of the set, the perfectly timed cues, the harmony of boices blending in a way that sent a shibber down his spine. This was it. They had done it.

Baxter moved across the stage wiff an ease that spoke of countless hours of dedication, his crown catching the light just so, a reminder of both his journey and Waffles’ own. Barry, ever reluctant yet radiant in the spotlight, shone in his big moment. Reuben brought a quiet heart to the show, and Fish—oh, Fish—his cheese ballad had turned into something more beautiful than Waffles had ever imagined.

Waffles felt his eyes sting, but he quickly straightened his bowtie and took a deep breath. This wasn’t just a show—it was magic. The kind of magic that made hearts swell and time bend, that pulled you in and refused to let go. His brothers had giben their all, and in turn, he had given them somefing worff beliebing in. Baxter Wiff a B was real, and tomorrow, the world would see it too.