Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0NYA20KT0N0G57DM5EE00N

Molly unfolded the invitation like a treasure map, except it smelled of jam and glitter. Bill squinted at the crayon castle printed beside the words Princess Poppy's Seventh Birthday. "Guards?" he whispered. "Two Labradors and a grandmother with a whistle," Molly said. "Deadly." "Focus, Bill. The presents are stacked by the bouncy castle." "Inside enemy territory." "Inside a rented unicorn marquee." "Same thing, with frosting." They crouched behind a hedge while shrieks of children sailed over it like tiny police sirens. Molly wore a caterer's apron; Bill wore a balloon hat he'd inflated by accident and now feared. "What's our cover?" he asked. "We are entertainers." "I don't entertain. I alarm." "Then you're perfect. Distract them." "With what, existential dread?" "With balloon animals." Bill looked at his hat. "I know one shape: regret." A small boy appeared at the gate, icing on his chin. "Are you the magicians?" Molly smiled so hard her cheeks squeaked. "Absolutely." Bill leaned close. "Molly, I can't do magic." "Yes you can. Make those presents disappear." "Do we still steal them?" "After applause? Never. We invoice. And maybe one cupcake each for expenses. Obviously." Bill produced a rubber chicken; the children cheered. Molly bowed.