Hey everyone! This twoshot was written for a contest over at the amazing Musicals RPG under the Misc. plays/musicals forum.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Producers. It's all Mel Brooks's.


Part 1

"Who was that?" Leo asked the moment I slammed the phone back down on the cradle. I let out a long sigh and made my way over to the couch he was sitting on in the living room of our apartment. It was painted a nauseating shade of brown and decorated with nothing more than a TV, a coffee table, and a black couch.

"My dad," I said with little enthusiasm.

"Again?"

"Yes, again." And frankly, it was getting to be a nuisance. My parents were calling me almost everyday now. It wasn't that I didn't like that them . . . okay, so maybe that had something to do with it. It was more the fact that the only time they ever called me before was on Christmas, and sometimes on Easter, but ever since Leo and I went to prison for our Springtime for Hitler scheme, they wanted to check up with me all the time. Leo never believed me when I used to complain about the never-ending calls, but ever since we moved in together, he agreed with my point of view.

"What do you even talk about?" he asked me.

"They always ask about our shows, the production team, and, well . . ." I pause for a moment. "They're always wondering if I've found a girlfriend."

Leo stared at me in bewilderment. "You mean you haven't told them about . . . us . . . yet?"

"What? You expect me to tell them that?" I got up from my seat and crossed to the other side of the room, crossing my arms. "I've told you before. They're biggest tight-ass conservatives in the world. They're prissy, they're snobby, and they hate anything that isn't perfectly acceptable." I kicked at the ground. "If they ever found out that I was sleeping with another man, they'd probably disown me!"

"Well . . ." Leo mumbled, not entirely sure what to say. "You don't have to tell them."

I strode over to the window and heaved a long sigh. "But I want to tell them. I'm afraid they'll do what they did after we got out of prison."

My partner chuckled at the memory. Before we were together, my mother made a feeble attempt to get me to date the ugliest women to walk the Earth. "Sophia?"

"Yes, Sophia! But I can't do that this time. I have to introduce you to them tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Leo's jaw almost fell open in disbelief.

"They invited me over for their typical Sunday dinner. They call me all the time, but I haven't actually seen them since before you moved in, and they want to see me. The house is right outside the city, not very far."

The bewildered gaze in his eyes still hasn't left, though. "So we're just going to go and surprise them?"

"We're going to surprise them either way," I admitted as I retook my seat next to Leo. "I can tell you this much; they never expected their son to be a faggot."

"I'm sure they won't hate you that much."

"I'm sure they will. But I have to get it over with eventually, right? So tomorrow. Are you okay with it?"

He nodded in agreement, but then hesitated. "Will they yell at me?"

I shrugged. "Who knows? They'll probably yell at me more than anyone, but they might blame you for something. Don't worry, though. I'll be there."

He smiled up at me. "Okay."

"So you'll go?"

"Sure."

Leo laid his head on my shoulders. I ruffled his hair as I sank further into the couch. His eyes fall shut and his breathing becomes steady. I sat there with him for ten minutes or so before he fell asleep.

All tired out from the rehearsal today, I surmised while I slowly lower him down. I stuffed a pillow under his head and draped a blanket that was hanging over the couch across his body. My eyes gazed at him one last time before I left the room to make some dinner. He was usually the one to come up with our meals, but I could manage to cook something so he could rest. After all, he would be needing the extra energy for tomorrow's confrontation.