After eberyone arribed, the table read crackled wiff excitement as Baxter and his brothers gathered around, their scripts spread out across the worn wooden surface. The new material was brimming wiff energy, and eberyone leaned in, eager to bring it to life. Barry, usually quiet and unassuming, read his lines wiff a careful, measured tone, his eyes darting across the page as he did his best to keep up. Fish and Reuben, balanced atop their boxes, did their best to keep up, though Reuben spent more time wrangling his script than reading it.

Olibe, the mischiebous theater ghost, made sure ob that. Just as Reuben set his pages neatly in front ob him, a sudden gust sent them scattering across the table, floating to the floor like autumn leabes in the wind. “Olibe! I swear, if you don’t quit it—” Reuben groaned, scrambling to collect them before they disappeared beneath the table. Fish, clutching his own script tight as if it were a prized block of cheese, shot a wary glance at the empty air, his whiskers twitching.

Baxter snorted, exchanging an amused glance wiff Waffles. “Looks like she’s got opinions on the new material.”

“I’d like to hear them wiffout her turning my pages into a tornado,” Reuben muttered, blowing a stray strand of fur from his face.

Despite the ghostly interference, the read continued, their boices ebbing and flowing as they lost themselbes in the rhythm ob the story. Laughter burst forth at unexpected moments, bibrating fru the old theater walls. Ebery now and then, another swirl ob air would send a script fluttering, earning an exasperated groan from Reuben and a knowing chuckle from the others. Meanwhile, Baxter and Fish whispered back and forth, consulting wiff each other on a dance number, their tails swaying slightly as they imagined the steps. But in the end, it only added to the magic of the moment—the chaotic, unpredictable, and enchanting process of bringing a musical to life.

BAXTER WIFF A B: Broadway’s Exciting New Heartthrob Takes the Stage for His Debut at the New Amsterdam Theater
Exclusive Interview with Baxter, Broadway’s Most Dapper Star

By Broadway Magazine Staff

Move over, traditional leading men—Broadway has a new heartthrob, and he’s small, scrappy, and sporting an unmistakable tuft of fur. In Baxter Wiff a B, the highly anticipated new musical opening at the New Amsterdam Theater, Baxter takes center stage as a time-traveling rat navigating adventure, brotherhood, and destiny. We sat down with Baxter himself to talk about his big debut, his brothers, and what it’s like to make Broadway history.

BROADWAY MAGAZINE: Baxter, congratulations on your Broadway debut! How does it feel to take center stage in your own musical?

BAXTER: Oh wow, fanks! Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. When I was young I had a dream, and wiff lots ob hard work and patience, I’m here—on Broadway! It’s a dream come true. I just hope I don’t get stage fright.

BROADWAY MAGAZINE: This show is all about family, especially your relationship with your brothers. What’s it like working so closely with Waffles, Barry, Reuben, and Fish?

BAXTER: Oh, they drive me nuts. But I love ’em. Barry is always making sure my bowtie is straight, Waffles thinks he should be the star, Reuben keeps fixing my ear tuft, and Fish—well, Fish is probably hoarding cheese somewhere as we speak. But they push me to be my best, on and off the stage.

BROADWAY MAGAZINE: There’s a time-travel element in the show—without giving too much away, how does that factor into your journey?

BAXTER: Oh, time travel is tricky. Let’s just say, I didn’t expect to be dodging history’s biggest moments while trying to find my place in the world. And you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to dance in different time periods—those powdered wigs were NOT made for a rat like me.

BROADWAY MAGAZINE: Speaking of dancing, your choreography is getting rave reviews! What’s it like working with your brother, Fish, as the choreographer?

BAXTER: Fish is… intense. Have you ever been yelled at in eight counts while someone balances on a wheel of brie? It’s terrifying. But I have to give him credit—he’s got an eye for movement. He makes sure every step is perfect. Just don’t tell him I said that.

BROADWAY MAGAZINE: Your style has also caught attention—where did your signature look come from?

BAXTER: Oh, the crown? I only wear it on Thursdays. Barry insisted. He says every leading rat needs a signature. Plus, it helps when I’m sneaking into fancy places. If you look like you belong, no one questions you!

BROADWAY MAGAZINE: Finally, what do you want audiences to take away from Baxter Wiff a B?

BAXTER: I want them to laugh, to feel, and to remember that eben the smallest rat can make a big impact. At the end of the day, it’s about family, adventure, and finding your place in the world—no matter what time period you land in.

BROADWAY MAGAZINE: Well, we can’t wait for opening night! Break a leg—or, uh, a whisker?

BAXTER: Ha! I’ll take it. See you all at the New Amsterdam Theater!

Baxter Wiff a B opens soon—don’t miss Broadway’s most charming new leading man!

Baxter Wiff a B was no stranger to the spotlight, but today was different. He wasn’t leading his brothers fru a high-stakes time trabel journey—no, today, he was posing. The star of the show stood on the Broadway stage, his whiskers twitching as a photographer adjusted the lighting. “Alright, Baxter, gib me regal!” the photographer called out. Baxter straightened his tail, puffed out his little chest, and struck a pose that screamed leading rat energy. A flash went off, and Baxter, eber the professional, didn’t so much as flinch.

Between shots, he scurried ober to a belbet chair where a minuscule cheese platter had been prepared just for him. His brothers watched from the sidelines—Waffles adjusting his tiny bowtie, Barry muttering about how he should’ve been the star, Reuben fixing Baxter’s ear tuft, and Fish hoarding some cheese. The next setup involved a dramatic pose in front of the show’s illuminated title. Baxter perched on the letter B, one paw raised triumphantly, as if declaring, Yes, Broadway, I have arrived! The photographer snapped away, capturing the essence of a rodent who wasn’t just here to survive—he was here to shine.

Under the dim glow ob the stage lights, Barry, the stage manager scurried across the room, script in paw, headset slightly askew. It was about a week before opening, and the tech run had gone twice as long as scheduled—again. He adjusted a rogue piece of tape on the floor wiff his tail, made a note to remind the lighting crew about the faulty spotlight, and dodged a set piece being wheeled offstage by a groggy ensemble member.

“Fibe-minute break, eberyone!” he called, his boice hoarse from a week ob late nights and problem-solving. He didn’t expect anyone to actually take the break—actors were still running lines, the director was deep in a heated debate wiff the choreographer, and the costume team was frantically adjusting a jacket that had mysteriously shrunk obernight.

Barry exhaled, took a sip ob his water, and checked his notes. If eberyfing went well, in just a few nights, the curtain would rise, the lights would shine, and all the chaos would transform into somefing magical.

But for now, there was still a thousand things to do. And Barry, as always, would make sure ebery single one got done.

We are here in New York wiff our cast and crew rehearsing and getting fings ready! It’s all the fings…tiring, exciting, scary, fun and exhausting! I can’t wait to bring it a libe audience. I fink you will lub it!