BENITO MCLAUGHLIN STOOD on the stage inside the Lamar, the complex's gigantic theater, microphone in his hand. The supporting cast of Hitler, having just been introduced, lined the stage behind him. Benito had made a few remarks and now choked up. He paused for dramatic effect, looking over the eight hundred people in attendance. "If we don't challenge ourselves," he said softly, "then we are not artists. And more important than that----more important than anything else, my friends----we are not artists if we don't challenge our audience. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Hitler."337Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiyaf7zhYnj
The crowd erupted in applause. The cast walked off the stage and took their seats. Benito was last, soaking in the adoration before bowing once and walking down the steps.
The lights dimmed until it was pitch black in the theater. The audience settled into a hush of quiet anticipation.
But, unlike the rest of the cast, Benito McLaughlin did not take a seat in the front row of the theater. He did not take a seat at all.
Instead, in the darkness, he pivoted and turned toward a corner of the theater where a member of the Lamarcke staff stood like a sentry. As Benito neared him, the man pushed on the wall----a door, really.
Benito disappeared through it.
Moments later, the movie began with grainy, black-and-white footage of Adolf Hitler addressing a crowd from a balcony. This movie was Benito's crowning achievement. But he wouldn't be watching.
The audience, brimming with anticipation, hadn't noticed Benito's covert exit. Why would they? Their eyes were on the screen, not the corner of the theater. They were eager for the start of this controversial movie.
Except, of course, for two members of the audience, seated in the fourth row on the aisle, who were much more concerned with Benito himself than with his movie.337Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1lj5KtkqXB
"Did he just slip out?" Godredo whispered to Egor.337Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX2eyW3H3xS
