Run: 2026-07-09-01KX400B43JXSVVPQBFC8ZW0PW

Molly unfolded the blueprint beneath a piñata shaped like a surprised donkey. Bill wore a tuxedo two sizes too small and carried a sack labeled DEFINITELY NOT PRESENTS. “Are you certain this is the target?” Molly whispered. “Absolutely. The invitation said ‘Sam’s sixth birthday,’ and the address matches.” “It also says ‘bring a gift.’” “Excellent cover. I brought a toaster.” “You stole that toaster yesterday.” “Then it’s practically sentimental.” Through the window, children shrieked around a magician whose rabbit looked professionally disappointed. A mountain of brightly wrapped presents glittered beside the cake. “Phase one,” Molly said, “we enter disguised as entertainers.” “We are entertainers?” “You juggle.” “I dropped one orange and it rolled under a police horse.” “Phase two?” “Compliment the birthday child, create confusion, and grab the presents.” “That sounds less like a plan and more like your usual shopping.” Bill adjusted his crooked bow tie. “What’s phase three?” “Escape through the kitchen.” “Past the parents?” “Past the clown.” “The clown looks dangerous.” “He’s six years old.” “Exactly. No adult has that much energy without weapons.” They slipped inside. Molly raised a hand dramatically. “Happy birthday! We’re the gift inspectors.” A little girl squinted at them. “Where are your badges?” Bill produced two stickers reading BEST GRANDMA. “Temporary credentials,” he said. The girl pointed toward the exit. “My dad’s a detective.” Molly grabbed Bill’s sleeve. “Abort.” Bill seized the toaster. “At least let’s return the centerpiece.”