Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0MWGTJVAYHDBKDTNS3E914

Molly spread the birthday party map across the bonnet of their van, smoothing it with the reverence of a general planning war and the sticky fingers of someone who had already tested the cake frosting. Bill leaned over, squinting at the crayon diagram of balloons, bouncy castle, and a suspiciously cheerful clown station. “Back door, grab gifts, flee,” Bill said. Molly tapped the paper with a liquorice wand. “Too crude. We need elegance.” Across the street, children shrieked joyfully as a magician produced doves, coins, and what appeared to be a very confused hamster. The present table glittered beneath a mountain of wrapping paper, bows, and tiny cards addressed in heroic handwriting. Bill adjusted his fake moustache, which had been chosen from the costume box and looked emotionally unstable. “What about parents?” “Distract them with panic,” Molly said. Their plan involved Bill entering as Professor Pickle, emergency balloon inspector, while Molly, disguised as a grandmother with improbable eyebrows, would announce a sudden shortage of jelly. In the resulting adult stampede, they would swap the presents for empty boxes weighted with turnips. Bill nodded solemnly. “Turnips say birthday, right?” Molly grinned, pocketing three party poppers. “In prison, they will.”