Act Two : Scene Six – The Finale

(Smash cut to: A bustling Broadway street. Posters of famous shows line the buildings—Hamilton, Wicked, Phantom… and then—one small, handwritten sign on a dark, forgotten theater.) **Remember, dis is in the play, not the reality ob dis play being in the big New Amsterdam theater you’re sitting in now.

NOW PLAYING: “BAXTER WIFF A B”!

(The brothers stand in front of the theater, staring at the sign. It’s small. It’s scrappy. It’s not one of the big-name shows… yet. But it’s theirs.)

Baxter (smirking, staring at the sign):
“You know… I fink this is gonna work.”

Reuben (hands in pockets):
“Well, it better. I already started selling t-shirts.”

Waffles:
“And I already signed an autograph deal.”

Barry (clutching his script, bouncing):
“And I wrote three ballads in the past hour!”

(Fish watches his brothers. The chaos. The energy. The ridiculousness of it all. He shakes his head, but this time—)

(He smiles and nibbles some cheese.)

Fish:
“Ok – Let’s do dis together!! Let’s take Broadway. But if this turns into Cats, I’m leaving.”

FINAL CURTAIN DROP. LIGHTS OUT.

“Baxter Wiff a B” – The Showstopping Finale

(After a quick montage ob all the show preparation —after the journey through Broadway’s past, after proving himself, after defying every single doubt thrown his way—this is Baxter’s moment. The show is a triumph. The audience is on their feet. And now, the final number brings it all home.)

(The orchestra strikes up a bold, brassy overture. A mix of classic Broadway flair and modern energy—big horns, soaring strings, tap-dancing rhythms. The lights are golden, sparkling like the city itself.)

(Baxter stands center stage, his brothers beside him. The Marquee B is fully lit above them, glowing like a beacon. This is the final number. The moment they own the stage.)

[Opening Verse – Baxter Owns It]

🎶 They said a rat like me could never stand in the light,
“Stay down in the gutters, kid, Broadway ain’t your type!”
But I bopped and I scampered, I danced and I dreamed—
And now da whole world is clappin’ for me!

(The chorus kicks in—full blast. Baxter steps forward, belting wiff confidence, wiff joy, wiff the power of ebery dreamer who dared to believe.)

[Chorus – The Signature Hook]

🎶 I’m Baxter wiff a B, I’m big, I’m bold!
I’m takin’ my shot, I’m breakin’ the mold!
They said “rats don’t belong,” they laughed and they sneered—
But now I’m the name dat da whole world cheers!

(The brothers join in—each one bringing their own flair.)

Waffles (jazz hands, dramatic spins):
🎶 He’s Baxter wiff a B, da dream is alive!
🎶 From da gutters to da spotlight, now we thrive!

Barry (cool, laid-back, arms crossed but smirking):
🎶 Yeah, Baxter wiff a B, dat name’s on da marquee!
🎶 Broadway’s for da bold, and dat bold is he!

(The *ensemble kicks in—pigeons, old Broadway ghosts (Olibe), random stagehands—*ALL CELEBRATING. The stage fills wiff energy. The music swells.)

[Bridge – The Heart of the Dream]

(The tempo slows slightly, just for a moment—Baxter stands alone at center stage. The orchestra hushes. The lights dim, leaving just a spotlight on him.)

🎶 It ain’t just da lights, it ain’t just da fame…
It ain’t just a dream, it ain’t just a name…
It’s da moments we live for, da stories we spin…
It’s family, it’s music—it’s da fire wiffin…

(And then—)

THE MUSIC SURGES BACK.

🎶 So clap wiff me, sing wiff me, dance till ya drop—
Dis rat is a legend—and I ain’t gonna stop!

(A tap-break happens. The brothers get pulled into a big, ridiculous dance number. Reuben tries to escape but gets caught in a kickline of pigeons. Barry begrudgingly throws in a jazzy spin. Waffles is thriving. The theater is electric.)

[Final Chorus – The Ultimate Broadway Moment]

🎶 I’m Baxter wiff a B, I’m big, I’m bold!
I’m takin’ my shot, I’m breakin’ da mold!
They said “rats don’t belong,” they laughed and they sneered—
But now I’m da name dat da whole world cheers!

(The crowd is clapping along. The lights flash. The orchestra swells to its peak. This is the moment—this is Broadway history.)

[The Big Finish – A Star is Born]

🎶 So mark dis day, remember my name—
I came for Broadway, and I CHANGED DA GAME!

🎶 “I’M BAXTER WIFF A BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” 🎶

💥 FINAL NOTE. THE MUSIC SLAMS TO A CLOSE.

(Baxter stands center stage, paws outstretched. The curtain falls. The lights burst into gold. The audience is on their feet, roaring.)

(The rats did it. They took Broadway. The Marquee B glows one last time—forever part of Broadway history.)

BLACKOUT. CURTAIN CALL. THE DREAM IS REAL.
___________________

Thank you for coming.

Please stop by Fish’s curated cheese table on your way out.

Act Two : Scene Five

(The backstage of the old Broadway theater is quiet—for the first time in what feels like forever. The Marquee B glows softly in the background, its golden hum still lingering. Baxter, exhausted but beaming, sits on a crate while his brothers hover around him, still buzzing from everything they’ve just heard.)

(Then—)

THE DOOR BURSTS OPEN.

(Fish steps inside, carrying a wheel of cheese. His cheese map is tucked safely under his arm, but for the first time, he’s not looking at it. He’s looking at them—his brothers. He pauses in the doorway, scanning the room, then lets out a deep sigh—)

Fish (grinning, exasperated):”Alright. I admit it. I missed you weirdos.”

(The brothers all look up. Silence. And then—)

Waffles (gasping dramatically, clutching his heart):”FISH! YOU’RE BACK!”

(He sprints toward Fish, knocking over a stack of papers in his excitement.)

Fish (holding out a paw):”No. No singing. No spontaneous dance numbers. I just got here.”

Barry (grinning, arms crossed):”Come on. You know we were this close to launching into a full-blown reunion number.”

Reuben:”Gib him two minutes, he’ll cave.”

(Fish rolls his eyes but smirks, setting the cheese wheel down. He crosses the room, plopping onto an overturned stage box near Baxter.)

Fish (casually):”Alright, someone tell me eberyfing.”

(The room erupts into overlapping voices—)

Waffles (talking way too fast):”BAXTER WAS ON BROADWAY. Like, literally in it. He was Simba. He rapped wiff the founding fathers. He flew on a broomstick. He tap-danced in The Producers! Oh! And I think a pigeon called him a ‘Broadway Menace.’”

Fish (blinking):”Wait. You actually time-trabeled fru Broadway?”

Baxter (grinning, exhausted):”Yep. And now we’re gonna put on a show of our own.”

(Fish raises an eyebrow. He glances at Waffles, who is frantically scribbling in his notebook, at Barry, who is clearly already working on an autograph signature, at Reuben, who pretends to be unimpressed but is definitely in. And finally, at Baxter, whose determination is stronger than ever.)

(Fish sighs—long, dramatic, and too loud.)

Fish (fake groaning):”Ugh. Fine. But I’m in charge ob snacks.”

(The room erupts into cheers. It’s official. They’re doing this.)

Act Two – Scene Four

(Lights rise on a dimly lit café corner, where Fish stands alone, bathed in a single golden spotlight. His tiny paws clutch his worn parchment map, its edges curled from years of careful study. The café is quiet, save for the faint sound of distant city life—a soft saxophone playing in the street, the chatter of late-night diners, the clinking of espresso cups.)

(Fish takes a deep breath. This is his moment.)

🎵 “The Cheese Ballad – Part II” 🎵

(He begins soft, wistful, longing.)

FISH:
🎶 Oh, I dream ob a city wiff cheese on each street,
A place where da dairy’s deliciously sweet.
From cafes to bistros, each bite tells a tale,
A journey ob brie, ob gouda, ob taleggio pale…

(He unrolls the map with reverence, his eyes gleaming like a cartographer discovering new lands.)

🎶 Here in West Billage, where romance runs free,
I bited a brie that was made just for me.
So creamy, so breezy, it melted like dreams,
A whisper ob dawn wiff buttery beams…

(The music shifts—adventurous, thrilling. Fish spins, his tail flicking as he traces his map like an explorer ready to set sail.)

🎶 And Liddle Italy, oh, da magic runs deep!
Wiff mozzarella so botty, it makes me weep.
A pile ob Parmigiano, crumbly, so grand,
Grated on pasta by an old baker’s hand.

(He twirls dramatically, pointing eastward with conviction.)

🎶 Da Lower East Side, where da bold cheeseblends glow,
Bagels and cream cheese put on quite a show!
But wander beyond, where da hipsters all line,
You’ll find a smoked gouda wiff depff so debine…

(The orchestra swells—strings and accordions blending in a melody of nostalgia and passion. Fish clutches his map, the weight of history and flavor almost too much to bear.)

🎶 Oh, but Brooklyn, dear Brooklyn, you baffle my mind,
A cheddar so sharp, it could cut wiff its rind!
A blue cheese so tangy, so big and so bold,
It sings wiff da bridges, a blue-and-white gold…

(The music hushes, reverent, almost sacred. Fish’s voice drops to a hushed whisper.)

🎶 And Queens, oh, Queens, da treasures you keep,
Halloumi wiff grill marks, a bite so deep.
A queso so precious from Jackson Heights’ streets,
A taste ob da world in a city ob beats…

(The final chorus swells, Fish rising onto his tiny hind legs, holding his map like a sacred text. The wind shifts—as if the very city itself is listening.)

🎶 So here is my map, my dream and my guide,
A city ob cheeses, wiff boroughs so wide.
Each block is a blessing, each nibble a rhyme,
In a grand cheese-ballet ob history and time!

(*He stands, breathless, victorious. The café falls silent. Then—suddenly—**)

THE ENTIRE CAFÉ ERUPTS INTO APPLAUSE!

(Diners rise from their seats, chefs wipe away tears, a tiny rat barista raises an espresso in Fish’s honor. Somewhere, a cheese wheel is dramatically rolled onto the stage. A spotlight gleams off its golden rind. This is a moment.)

(Fish takes it all in, his tiny chest rising and falling. His life’s greatest passion has just been given a standing ovation. And yet… something is missing. His brothers. Baxter. The theater. The adventure…)

(As the crowd cheers, toasts, and revels, Fish stares down at his map. The glow of the Marquee B still lingers faintly in his mind.)

Fish (softly, to himself): “Maybe da real treasure isn’t just da cheese… it’s who you share it wiff.”

(Lights fade. The city hums around him. Fish rushes out stage left…)

Act Two: Scene Three

(As the golden glow of the Marquee B swirls around Baxter, he soars through the Broadway time stream once again. Music echoes around him, flashes of past performances flicker in the air. He hears the distant whoosh of wind—)

THUMP!

(He lands on… something. Something hard. And moving. And very, very high up.)

(Baxter’s whiskers twitch. His little rat nose sniffs the air. He dares to open his eyes.)

(And then—his tiny heart drops.)

Baxter Realizes His Situation

(He is standing—*no, balancing—*on the edge of a broomstick. A soaring, sky-high, spell-casting broomstick.)

(Below him? The entire land of Oz. Glittering, glowing, so far down. The winds howl around him. The moonlight illuminates the stage.)

(And right beside him?)

ELPHABA.

(In full, green-skinned, dramatic Defying Grabity mode.)

(And she is holding out a hand.)

🎶 “Together we’re unlimited…” 🎶

(Baxter freezes. His tail flicks in panic. He looks at her. Then the sky. Then at her again. Then at the audience below—who are all watching, waiting, breathless.)

(Oh no.)

(OH NO. He knows what’s coming. He’s not just in Wicked. He’s IN THE NUMBER.)

HE IS FLYING.

Baxter Has No Choice – He Sings!

(Elphaba grips the broomstick, eyes burning wiff determination. Her emerald hand is still outstretched toward him.)

🎶 “If you care to find me, look to the Western sky!” 🎶

(The orchestra builds. The music shakes the theater. Elphaba BELTS. The broomstick tilts. Baxter nearly falls.)

(And then, somehow, by pure Broadway magic—)

🎶 “AS SOMEONE TOLD ME LATELY… EBERYONE DESERBES THE CHANCE TO FLY!” 🎶

HE HITS THE HIGH NOTE.

(The audience gasps. Elphaba’s eyes widen. The orchestra erupts. The broomstick rises even HIGHER.)

🎶 “AND IF YOU CARE TO FIND ME—”

(Elphaba and Baxter BELT TOGETHER. The lights explode in dazzling emerald brilliance. The cape billows. The crowd is on their feet.)

🎶 “TELL THEM HOW I AM DEFYYYYYYYING… GRA-BIT-TY!” 🎶

(Baxter clings to the broomstick for dear life, but in this moment—he is unstoppable. He is soaring. He is BROADWAY.)

THE AUDIENCE ROARS.

(The music swells to its peak. The sky glows green. The broomstick holds steady. Elphaba throws back her head in triumph—)

THE MARQUEE B GLOWS AGAIN!

(The golden energy sparks around Baxter, wrapping him in light. The broomstick shudders. Elphaba turns in shock—)

Elphaba (shouting over the wind):
“BAXTER, WHAT’S HAPPENING?!”

(Baxter flails as he starts to vanish. The magic is taking him again.)

(The last thing he hears—)

🎶 “TOOOOOO FLYYYYYYYYY!!!” 🎶

(—before he is ripped from Oz, vanishing into the Broadway void.)

Act Two: Scene Two

(As the golden glow of the Marquee B swirls around Baxter, he feels himself soaring. The Broadway magic pulls him through time and space once again, music swelling, colors flashing—until suddenly—)

THUMP!

(He lands—on something… soft? He feels the sun on his fur. The air is warm. He blinks—and then realizes—)

(He’s on a rock. A very big rock. A VERY HIGH ROCK.)

(Wind rushes past him. The sky is golden. Below, hundreds of animals are gathered, bowing.)

(Baxter’s tiny rat heart STOPS.)

🎶 “NAAAAAAAANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABAAAA!” 🎶

(His ears twitch. His tail flicks. His brain catches up.)

HE IS ON PRIDE ROCK.

HE IS SIMBA.

(Before Baxter can react—he hears a deep, regal voice behind him.)

Mufasa (booming):”It is time, my son.”

(Baxter slowly—very slowly—turns his head. Standing beside him, towering over him, is Mufasa. Golden mane glowing in the sunrise. **Dignified. Majestic.***)

(Baxter’s whiskers twitch.)

(This is way above his pay grade.)

(Then—before he can protest—Rafiki, the wise mandrill, steps forward, smiling. He lifts a tiny pawful of dust and smears it across Baxter’s rat forehead.)

🎶 “NANTS INGONYAMA!!” 🎶

(The animals roar in celebration. The elephants trumpet. The zebras stomp. The giraffes nod regally. The antelopes leap. And Baxter—Baxter the rat—is lifted high into the air.)

(His tiny legs dangle. He flails slightly. He is held up for all the savanna to see.)

HE. IS. BABY SIMBA.

(A single wildebeest in the back wipes away a tear. This is the future king.)

(Baxter’s tiny voice squeaks out—)

Baxter (panicked, whispering):”Oh no.”

(The orchestra soars. The entire savanna cheers. The Circle of Life BOOMS around him. His Broadway destiny has never been bigger.)

(Cut to later—Baxter, still processing, is now being dragged into a full musical number.)

🎶 “I’m gonna be a mighty king, so enemies beware!” 🎶

(Suddenly—he’s leading the show. He’s running across the savanna. Colorful birds swoop around him. Elephants march in sync. Giraffes do high kicks. He slides under zebras. He’s somehow dancing with hippos. He doesn’t know how, but he knows all the words.)

🎶 “I just can’t wait to be king!” 🎶

(He leaps onto a vine. The vine swings. The music builds. The scene explodes into a massive, Broadway-style finale pose.)

THE CROWD GOES WILD.

(Baxter pants, standing on a pile of acrobatic monkeys. He’s never been in a bigger production. The applause shakes the earth.)

(And just when he’s thinking maybe he can handle this—)

THE MARQUEE B GLOWS AGAIN!

(The sky shimmers. The air crackles. Mufasa looks on, eyes wise and knowing, as the golden energy surrounds Baxter once more.)

Mufasa (softly):”Remember who you are…”

(Baxter barely has time to process the cosmic weight of that statement before—)

HE VANISHES.

(The Broadway magic whisks him away—onto his next adventure.)

Act Two: Scene One “Fish’s Cheese Ballad Part I”

“A Cheese to Call My Own”
(Fish’s Cheese Ballad – Part I)

(Soft piano intro, wistful and yearning. Fish steps forward, clutching a small wheel of cheese like it holds the secrets of the universe.)

FISH:
(gently, almost whispering)
I’ve wandered streets, I’be crossed the nights,
Fru alleys dim and city lights…
Searching, sniffing, dreaming wide—
A cheese to keep right by my side.

(Music swells, a longing violin joins in.)

FISH:
(growing bolder, heart swelling)
Oh, brie so creamy, gouda bold,
A tale of love that’s softly told.
Blue veined mysteries, sharp and bright,
Each bite a spark, a golden light!

(A gentle waltz rhythm begins, as if he’s dancing with the cheese.)

FISH:
(twirling, arms outstretched to the heavens)
Parmesan whispers, aged just right,
A sliver stolen in the night.
Camembert’s hush, a fleeting dream,
But oh, the melt, the perfect gleam!

(Pause. The music quiets—just a soft plucking of strings. Fish clutches the cheese closer, voice breaking with emotion.)

FISH:
But could there be… a cheese for me?
A wheel, a wedge, a bite, a key…
To all I’ve longed for, all I’ve known…
A cheese to truly call my own?

(A hush falls. Then—suddenly—the music swells into a triumphant, sweeping finale!)

FISH:
(powerful, victorious!)
Yes! A cheese that’s mine, a love so true!
A perfect rind, a golden hue!
From Stilton deep to cheddar bright—
My heart, my soul, my guiding light!

(Final note held, orchestra swells. Fish lifts the cheese high above his head, bathed in a spotlight. The crowd goes wild! Fish scurries off into the nearby cheese café )

The magnets are here!

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And there is more Baxter Wiff a B merch here:
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Act two is coming up…

/1 Comment

The Broadway Adbenture Continues

(As the golden light swirls around Baxter, he feels himself tumbling again—spinning, flipping, weightless. The echoes of applause from The Producers fade into the distance. Suddenly—)

THUD!

(He lands hard on cobblestone. The world around him is dimly lit, shadows stretching across brick walls. Neon signs flicker above a gritty New York street. The air is thick wiff tension. And then—)

🎶 “When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way…” 🎶

(Baxter’s ears perk up. His heart pounds. He knows this song. He knows this show. He turns around and sees—)

He’s in the Middle of the Jets!

(A group of leather-jacketed gang members are snapping their fingers in perfect unison. Their leader—Riff—steps forward, a smirk on his face. The rest of the Jets stare Baxter down, hands in pockets, swagger in their stance. It’s clear—they’re sizing him up.)

(Baxter gulps. He looks down at himself. He’s wearing—)

 A leather jacket.

(Oh. Oh no. He’s not just in the scene. He’s part of the gang.)

Dialogue: The Jets Welcome Baxter

Riff (grinning, tilting his head):
“Well, well, well. Look who finally showed up. Took ya long enough, Baxter.”

Baxter (stammering, trying to keep up):
“Oh! Uh—yeah, ya know, traffic was… rough?”

Action (another Jet, arms crossed):
“You got some mighty tiny feet for a Jet, pal.”

(Baxter realizes his tiny rat paws are sticking out ob the sleeves ob the leather jacket. He shoves them in his pockets real quick.)

The Song Kicks In: “Jet Song”

🎶 “When you’re a Jet, you’re the swingin’est thing—”

(The Jets suddenly break into dance, and Baxter is swept into it!)

(He’s spun, flipped, and before he can even protest—he’s doing choreographed fight moves. He snaps wiff them, kicks wiff them, even leaps onto a trash can and lands perfectly—as if he was born for this. His feet move instinctively. The music fills his soul.)

🎶 “You’re never alone, you’re never disconnected—”

(Baxter twirls, then—bam! He’s face-to-face wiff Riff again, who claps him on the back.)

A High-Stakes Moment: The Rumble is Coming

(The song ends, and the Jets exchange looks. The energy shifts. Something serious is about to happen.)

Riff (lowering his voice, serious):
“Alright, Baxter. It’s time.”

Baxter (nervous):
“Time… for what, exactly?”

(The Jets start cracking their knuckles. Riff nods toward the end ob the alley where another gang is approaching—slick-haired, red-jacketed. The Sharks.)

Action (grinning, nudging Baxter):
“Tonight’s the rumble, pal. You ready to prove you’re a Jet?”

(Baxter’s eyes widen. A rumble?! A Broadway gang fight?!)

(But before he can even process—)

  The Golden B Flickers Again!

(The air crackles wiff energy. Baxter gasps as the glow surrounds him once more. The Jets step back, shielding their eyes as Baxter begins to fade—)

Riff (shouting):
“Where you goin’, Baxter?! The fight’s startin’!”

(But Baxter can’t answer—because in an instant—)

HE’S GONE!

(The lights burst into a golden flash, and Baxter is once again hurtling toward the next stop on his Broadway adventure.)

(Baxter is once again flung through time and space, the golden glow of the marquee B surrounding him. Music and voices swirl past him in echoes of Broadway’s past—until suddenly—)

THUMP!

(He lands—hard—on a wooden stage. The air is thick wiff the scent of parchment and gunpowder. The crowd is roaring. A rhythmic, urgent beat is pounding beneath his feet. And then—)

🎶 “I am not throwin’ away my shot!” 🎶

(Baxter’s ears perk up. Oh no. OH NO. He turns around—and finds himself face-to-face wiff—)

Alexander Hamilton.

(And then he realizes—HE IS ALEXANDER HAMILTON.)

(He’s standing at center stage, dressed in a deep green Revolutionary War coat, high boots, a cravat, and a waistcoat. A quill is tucked behind his ear. The music is pulsing. The ensemble is waiting.)

(And before Baxter can even think—)

🎶 “Hey yo, I’m just like my country, I’m young, scrappy, and hungry—”

(HE STARTS SINGING!)

Baxter Becomes Hamilton

(It’s as if his tiny rat brain already knows the lyrics. The music carries him forward, the words spilling out effortlessly. He struts across the stage, cape flaring, rapping at full speed.)

🎶 “And I’m not throwin’ away my shot!” 🎶

(The cast erupts into choreography. The audience is cheering. He is absolutely owning this role. He duels wiff Burr, he slaps the table during Cabinet battles, he writes like he’s running out of time!)

(Everything is happening so fast. The politics, the passion, the tension—he’s in the middle of it all.)

The Show Reaches Its Peak—”The Room Where It Happens”

(Baxter suddenly finds himself alone on stage, wiff Aaron Burr circling him. The lighting shifts—golden and dramatic. The ensemble pulses around them, their feet stomping in rhythm.)

🎶 “No one really knows how the game is played…” 🎶

(Baxter turns sharply. Burr steps closer.)

🎶 “The art ob the trade… how the sausage gets made…” 🎶

(Baxter can feel the tension. The gravity ob the moment. He takes a breath, and wiff every ounce ob Broadway magic in his little rat soul, he BELTS IT.)

🎶 “I WANNA BE IN THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENS!” 🎶

(The stage explodes wiff movement. The turntable spins. The cast swirls around him, voices overlapping, harmonies building, the lights flickering like history itself is alive—)

THE MARQUEE B GLOWS!

(Baxter barely has time to react. The golden energy surges around him, pulling him away just as the final chorus swells. His voice echoes into the void—)

🎶 “THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENS—!” 🎶

(—and then, in a flash of golden light… he’s gone.)

Scene 8 : Back at the Theater – The Brothers Search for Baxter

(Lights up on the dusty backstage of the old Broadway theater. The golden glow that swallowed Baxter has faded. The room is eerily quiet. The only thing left behind is the faint hum of the mystical Marquee B.)

(Standing around the now-dim letter B are Waffles, Barry, Reuben, and Fish. They are frozen in shock. Their brother—the leader, the dreamer, the one wiff the biggest Broadway dreams— has vanished.)

Waffles (adjusting his bowtie, panicked):
“O-Okay, okay, let’s not freak out—Baxter is probably just—uh—hiding? Maybe he got stage fright? Maybe he got kidnapped!”

Barry (arms crossed, skeptical):
“Baxter? Stage fright? That rat would tap dance on the moon if you gave him the right spotlight.”

Reuben (frowning, rubbing his temples):
“Great. Just great. One second he’s whining about falling, the next he’s—poof—he’s gone? Fantastic. Yeah, totally normal.”

Fish (pacing, grumbling):
“I knew this was a bad idea. One minute we’re talking about our show, next minute our brother dissappears? This is exactly why I don’t trust theater magic!”

(He huffs, adjusting the tiny cheese-shaped notebook slung over his back.)

Fish Loses Patience

(The others continue debating, but Fish is done. He shakes his head, his tiny tail flicking in frustration.)

Fish:
“You know what? You three can stand here talking in circles, but I’ve got important work to do.“

(He turns, heading toward the door.)

Waffles (blinking, worried):
“Wait—Fish—where are you going?!”

(Fish stops in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder.)

Fish:
“Where do you fink? I got a cheese map to finish. You fink the city’s artisanal brie crisis is gonna solbe itself?”

(He gestures vaguely to the glowing marquee B.)

“Besides, I’m not messing wiff Broadway magic. That’s Baxter’s fing. You wanna find him? Fine. But I got cheese bizness. Call me when he’s back.”

(Wiff that, Fish exits, slamming the door behind him.)

The Remaining Brothers Look at Each Other

(There’s a long pause. Waffles adjusts his bowtie again. Barry rubs his arm awkwardly. Reuben sighs and looks back at the marquee B, still glowing faintly.)

Reuben (grumbling):
“I mean… he’s got a point. We are talking in circles.”

Waffles (softly, staring at the B):
“Yeah, but… what if this is real? What if Baxter is—somewhere out there? On a Broadway adbenture?”

(A beat. The marquee flickers. The golden glow pulses, as if whispering secrets. The brothers exchange a look. The mystery is just beginning…)

Scene Fades to Black.

(Meanwhile—where is Baxter now?)

END ACT ONE.  

Scene 5: The Transition – Broadway’s Magic Awakens

(Following “What If I Fall?”, Baxter wipes his eyes and steps deeper into the abandoned backstage area of the Broadway theater. Dust swirls in the air as old set pieces lean against the walls, forgotten by time. Then—his eyes catch something in the shadows: a faded, golden marquee letter.)

(It’s a capital “B.” Not just any B, but an ornate, shimmering B, almost taller than Baxter himself. The bulbs are dim, but there’s something about it… something electric. He steps closer.)

Baxter (whispering):
“What are you doin’ back here, huh? You used to shine, didn’t ya?”

(He reaches out hesitantly. The moment his paw touches the letter, the bulbs flicker, then glow bright—brighter than anything he’s ever seen! Wind rushes through the theater, pages of old scripts flying into the air. The walls around him seem to warp, the stage floor bending like waves beneath his feet!)

(The golden light explodes, swallowing Baxter whole. He tumbles backward, flipping, spinning, his tiny body hurtling through time and space. Music echoes all around him—choruses from classic Broadway hits swirl past, dancers in top hats, neon lights flashing… and then—BAM!)

(Baxter tumbles through the glowing, time-warping void, music and Broadway lights spinning around him. His tiny body twists, turns—until suddenly—BAM! He lands hard on a stage. The lights are blinding. The crowd is silent. The orchestra swells. And then—he hears it.)

🎶 “Germany was having trouble
What a sad, sad story
needed a new leader to restore
Its former glory..” 🎶

(Baxter blinks. He’s standing in a tailored, sparkling suit. His paws are gripping a cane. His feet are positioned just so. A spotlight is on him. The orchestra is waiting on him. The audience is watching.)

The Realization Hits

(Baxter looks to his right. There’s a chorus of dancers in German military-style showgirl outfits. He looks to his left. A man in lederhosen is beaming at him. He looks down at himself—he is in full costume.)

(And then, he hears a panicked whisper from the wings.)

Leo Bloom (stage whisper):  “Go, go, GO! The song, Baxter, the song!!”

(Baxter freezes. Then realization slams into him—he isn’t just in the show. He is playing the lead role!)

(And in the split second before panic can set in—the orchestra conductor raises his baton and—)

🎶 THE MUSIC BEGINS! 🎶

Baxter Performs!  (A hush falls. The first verse is his. The audience leans in. And then—)

🎶 “I was just a paperhanger, no one more obscure…” 🎶

(His voice wavers—but the melody carries him. The music is in him. He remembers all those hours wiff his brothers, playing Broadway records, imagining this moment… and suddenly—he leans into it.)

🎶 “Got a phone call from the Reichstag, told me I was Führer!” 🎶

(The audience ERUPTS in laughter—not in horror, not in fear, but in glee. He’s nailing it. He’s actually nailing it.)

(And then—he dances. He spins the cane. He struts forward. His paws move effortlessly through the number, as if he’s rehearsed this a thousand times. The chorus joins in. The stage bursts into dazzling color!)

🎶 “Springtime for Baxter—and Broadway!” 🎶

(The entire cast whirls around him, the choreography snapping into place like magic. He hits every cue, every note. The spotlights sweep over him, bathing him in golden glory. He is, for this moment, the biggest star on the biggest stage in the world. He is Broadway.)

Final Pose—Thunderous Applause

(As the song reaches its climax, Baxter is lifted onto the shoulders of two showgirls. The music hits its final, triumphant note. The entire ensemble poses, frozen in a dazzling Broadway tableau. And then—)

💥 THE CROWD GOES WILD.

(The audience is on their feet. They are cheering, laughing, stomping, clapping! The applause shakes the theater. The spotlight lingers on Baxter, who is breathing heavily, his heart pounding, his little paws shaking wiff excitement. For the first time in his life—he knows what it feels like to own the stage.)

(Then—)

The Marquee B Glows Again!

(The moment of triumph is short-lived—because suddenly, the magic is pulling him again! The golden light swirls, wrapping around his body. The cast watches in shock as Baxter starts to glow—)

Leo Bloom (panicking):
“Wait! We need him for Act Two!”

(But it’s too late—wiff a blinding flash, Baxter is whisked away once more…)