The last place Duke and Jenkins expected to be was a small high school theater, but their mastermind criminal partner, Macklin, insisted they come to his other job. While Macklin helped Duke and Jenkins embezzle millions of dollars, he often talked about this other job. Jenkins couldn’t have cared less, but then Duke suggested they see how else Macklin was using his criminal talents.
The pair walked into the auditorium just as the lights were dimming. The room was half full.
“What are we seeing?” Jenkins asked.
“Annie, apparently,” Duke said. “Maybe Macklin’s directing it or producing it, or he has a kid in it.”
The curtain opened, and there were several beds on stage. A woman, who was supposed to be a 12-year-old girl, was crying. Another girl was sitting on the bed comforting her, but the other girl was actually Macklin, with a giant red wig and freckles.
Macklin started to sing the opening number, “Maybe,” in full falsetto. Duke and Jenkins looked at each other. What was happening?
By the time they reached “Hard Knock Life,” Jenkins had snatched a program from a woman in front of them who was already asleep. The show was a multi-generational cast, half children’s theater/half community theater. The adults played the kids, while an eight-year-old girl portrayed Daddy Warbucks.
Macklin could not hit the notes as Annie and was ruining the always difficult-to-pull-off song “Hard Knock Life.”
“Is this a joke?” Jenkins asked.
“What?” A mom behind them interrupted. “Look how hard these kids are working. You keep your mouth shut.”
Duke and Jenkins ignored the mom.
“Macklin is a really bad actor,” Jenkins said.
“What if we have Macklin all wrong?” Duke said. “What if he’s just a failed community theater actor that we hired to defraud a bunch of high-powered, dangerous business people?”
Jenkins flipped through the program and saw that Macklin was in fact listed as the producer. “Macklin’s a genius.”
“No, he’s not. Look at him.”
“He’s a producer. This is all a money laundering scheme,” Jenkins said.
The two sat back and laughed through the rest of the ridiculous show.
After the show, they excitedly found Macklin. Duke shook his hand enthusiastically. “What a great play, or scheme, if you know what I mean.”
“Thank you, sir,” Macklin said, smiling. He did not know what Duke meant.
“We want to get into the theater game with you,” Jenkins said. “But let’s think bigger! What about a Broadway show?”
Macklin’s eyes lit up. “I’ve always wanted to be in The Producers.”
Duke and Jenkins smiled knowingly—still convinced that this failed actor was a criminal mastermind.