Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0N5YSQHZ4FCKJ3189F8VXQ

Molly unfolded the crayon map on the bakery table, careful not to smear the frosting fingerprints. Bill leaned over it, wearing a paper crown he'd stolen from nobody yet, because the restaurant gave them away. "The castle is the community hall," Molly whispered. "That bouncy thing is a moat," Bill said. "I don't trust moats that giggle." "We enter as entertainment." "I refuse to be a clown again. My dignity still squeaks." "Fine. You're Captain Picklebeard, magical pirate." "Does Captain Picklebeard get a sword?" "He gets a balloon and a tragic backstory." Outside, children shrieked with the joy of imminent cake. Inside, the thieves considered a mountain of wrapped presents drawn in purple marker. "All those parcels," Bill sighed. "Toy cars. Dinosaurs. Socks from aunties." "We steal everything," Molly said, "then sort the socks later." "What about the birthday child?" Molly paused. A sprinkle slid down her sleeve like a tiny guilty meteor. "We leave a note." "Apologizing?" "Explaining market forces." Bill frowned at the map. "What if they cry?" "Then," Molly said, folding it shut, "we steal only the magician's rabbit." "That's worse." "True. New plan: we bring bigger presents and rob the snack table." Bill brightened at once.