I showed up to Arts Umbrella at precisely 8:03 to see The Distance Between New Brunswick and Toronto, not realizing that a) it was after 8:00 and b) there were absolutely no late entries to Fringe shows. As the friendly lady behind the table apologetically explained that she could not let us in, another volunteer interrupted, with the kind of aggression that led me to flinch in surprise,that you can’t be late and no, we can’t give you a refund. Lesson: be on time.

Flustered, I proceeded to the box office, where a very nice volunteer said he would be happy to help us find another show. He recommended The Inventor of All Things and at 8:08 we power-walked in the direction he had pointed, hoping to get there in time for the 8:15 start.

We arrived at 8:11, only to learn another lesson: the Fringe Festival is a credit or cash only affair. Thankfully, I’m friends with real adults, who can be counted on to have more than a debit card in their backpack. Tickets obtained, memberships purchased, and with a few minutes to spare, I took a deep breath and reached for a program. On it was a man in a tub, holding a knife in one hand and a puppet in the other. “What’s this…?” I asked. “It’s the show!” the woman behind the table replied, convinced I was a moron, but determined to be nice to me.

By 8:31, I’d arrived at the conclusion that the nice man at the box office had been looking at the schedule for the previous day when he recommended the show to me. Written in chalk on the stage before me was an outline of what this play would be about: puppets and murder. Nervous and full of dread, I took my seat and prepared myself for what was to come. But to my surprise, Baker’s Dozen: 12 Angry Puppets had me laughing, smiling and nodding in agreement from start to finish.

The Baker has been found dead in a bathtub, the Candlemaker has disappeared but was definitely at the scene of the crime, and the Butcher is on trial for murder. Twelve puppets are summoned for jury duty to determine whether the Butcher killed his husband, the Baker. With their snap judgements, biases, and even indifference, those puppets had me hoping never to find myself at the mercy of a jury.

I had expected for the puppeteer to be hiding in the darkness, dressed all in black. Adam Francis Proulx, however, is very much a part of the show, without distracting from the periwinkle puppet on his right hand. Armed with only his voice, facial expressions, body language, and a single puppet, Proulx switches from one character to another with ease. Reaching into his jury box for different wigs and facial features, he creates new personas, all while moving to dramatic music. When he returns to the chair at centre stage, he–and his puppet–are transformed. With humour and creativity, one man and one puppet tell a story that reminds viewers that juries can be fallible.

And this brings me to the most important lesson I learned at the Fringe this year: if you think puppet shows are not for you, you’re wrong.

Baker’s Dozen: 12 Angry Puppets hit the stage at this year’s Van­cou­ver Fringe Fes­ti­val, which runs until Sept 20. For a full list­ing of Fringe events, visit the fes­ti­val web­site.