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!

Fanks for your patience while we went off to our secret locashun to work on ‘Baxter Wiff a B”. As many artists do, we went to Europe to be inspired and get our creatib juices flowing. Our first stop was Madrid, and we got lots ob work done there (and a little site seeing and Internashunal Bizness too) We spent alot ob time in the big park acting fings out singing the songs. It was pretty funny because people would look us funny, but probably they just didn’t speak English because our songs are great! We did hab one problem wiff Reuben – he kept running to the chocolate store, but we didn’t mind too much because the chocolate was soooo good! They also gib you churros to dip in it.

I still can’t beliebe dis is actually happening! “Baxter Wiff a B” is going to Broadway is a dream come true! But between you and me, I’m berry nerbous about it. As prepared as I thought I was, now we hab to make it happen. Eberybody on deck! Fish is going to do the choreography, Waffles is going to direct, Barry is building the sets and will be the backstage coordinator. Reuben is in charge ob casting the extras, public relashuns and running the box office. I hab to work on the rewrites and polishing the script to get it perfect. It’s alot ob pressure so we hab to go into seclusion for a couple weeks to get eberyfing ready for our Broadway debut! We are going to need lots ob snacks and all ob your good thoughts and support!

Please be patient wiff us during dis time, mom will make sure you still hab plenty to look at eberyday, and soon we will be back and ready to bring you the new Broadway sensashun “BAXTER wiff a B!” – Baxter (King ob Thursdays)