Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0AHZDVQANYW7ZVYK4H45FS

Molly crouched behind a towering inflatable giraffe, binoculars pressed to her face. The backyard of the McMansion pulsed with chaos: shrieking children darted past a bouncy castle, a clown honked a nose that emitted sparks, and a towering chocolate fountain bubbled dangerously close to the edge. Their target: the mountain of brightly wrapped presents piled under a striped awning. Bill lumbered up, nearly knocking over a garden gnome. "Right," he puffed, brushing cake crumbs off his ill-fitting black turtleneck. "So I’ll be the distraction? You know, charming the parents? I’ve got my ‘Uncle Bob’ hat on." Molly lowered the binoculars, one eyebrow raised. "Your 'Uncle Bob' hat looks like a startled badger gave birth to a mushroom. And your plan for distraction involves telling the birthday boy that his new Lego set is 'just a bunch of colourful rectangles'? Stick to the plan, Bill. Phase One: You create a diversion near the hedge maze. Phase Two: I slip in while the parents are looking at you." "Phase Two?" Bill scratched his head. "That sounds a bit... technical. What if I can't find the hedge maze? These kids are tiny, Molly. They keep kicking my shins." "Bill, focus!" Molly hissed, spotting a toddler wobbling precariously near the presents. "You don’t need the maze, you need noise. Shout that you've lost your imaginary pet wombat! Parents love that." "My *what*?" Bill spluttered. "That’s ridiculous. Wombats aren’t even native here." "They’re ridiculous everywhere! That’s the point!" Molly snapped, checking her lockpicks. "Just make a loud, confusing noise about something absurd. I’ll handle the presents. They’re all wrapped in cheap paper, easy to spot. Grab the big box with the rocket ship on it, anything labelled 'Age 8+'. Avoid the doll with the creepy eyes – I saw that one earlier, gives me the creeps." Bill adjusted his badger-hat. "So I shout about a wombat, you grab the loot, and we meet at the garden shed? Where we’re definitely not storing the stolen presents?" "Exactly." Molly’s eyes narrowed as a small boy ran past, trailing streamer. "And Bill? Try not to trip over any children. Or the clown. That nose honking thing is surprisingly loud." Bill puffed out his chest. "Easy peasy. Wombat distraction. Got it. Just watch me charm those grown-ups into a tizzy." He took a deep breath, his face screwing up in concentration. "RIGHT EVERYONE!" he bellowed, his voice cracking on the last syllable. "I’VE LOST MY PET WOMBAT! HE’S SMALL, FUZZY, AND LIKES CARROTS! HAS ANYONE SEEN HIM?" The clown stopped honking. The fountain sputtered. Every head turned, including the toddler teetering towards the presents. Molly melted into the chaos, a shadow darting towards the mountain of gift paper. Bill beamed, utterly unaware that his 'wombat' was actually a discarded stuffed rabbit lying under the hedge maze.