Run: 2026-03-18-01KM082DYSK46KYSBEWBYC8MQ7

Molly crouched behind the bakery van, watching the suburban garden glow with paper lanterns and unreasonable optimism. Inside, a banner declared HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and somewhere a trumpet of children’s laughter rose like a badly tuned alarm. Bill adjusted his black gloves, which were mostly for effect. He was also wearing a clown nose, because he believed in commitment. “Tell me again why we’re doing this,” he whispered. “Because,” Molly said, peering through the hedge, “the presents are unguarded, the adults are distracted, and the host hired a magician who can’t even keep a rabbit from escaping.” Bill nodded toward the pile of wrapped boxes near the cake table. A bicycle helmet. A tower of books. At least one suspiciously large parcel shaped like a spaceship. “That one’s mine,” he said. “You don’t know that.” “I can feel it.” A child squealed as a balloon popped, and every parent turned simultaneously toward the disaster. Molly smirked. “That’s our cue.” “And if they ask why we’re here?” She lifted a clipboard. “Party entertainment survey. We’re from the council.” Bill grinned, revealing a missing tooth and dangerous confidence. Together they marched through the gate, blending into the chaos with the ease of men who had once stolen a wedding cake and blamed the weather.