Run: 2026-07-09-01KX4028TTJ180K6ARH5B2014F

Molly crouched behind the hedge, studying the bungalow through a pair of opera glasses she had stolen from an opera. “Right,” Bill whispered, “we go in through the kitchen, neutralise the adults, locate the presents, and leave before anyone notices the balloon arch has been compromised.” “The balloon arch is not the problem.” “It’s a structural marvel. Look at it. Two hundred balloons, minimum.” “There are forty-six.” “You counted?” “I’m planning a robbery, Bill. Counting is generally involved.” Bill peered over the hedge. The garden was a riot of shrieking children, plastic swords, and frosting. A magician in a purple cape was pulling scarves from a dachshund’s ear. “Are we certain this is morally acceptable?” he asked. Molly lowered the glasses. “We’re stealing presents from a seven-year-old’s birthday party.” “Yes, but are we certain?” “You forged a passport using a library card last Tuesday.” “That was for a man named Derek. Derek was probably awful.” “The birthday girl is named Maisie.” “Maisie could be awful.” “She has a unicorn face painted on her cheek.” “Classic camouflage.” Molly unfolded the floor plan. “The gifts are in the sitting room, under the window. We enter through the side gate, cross the patio, slip through the conservatory, and fill the sack.” “Whose sack?” “Mine.” “You brought a sack?” “I’m not carrying eighteen board games in my pockets.” Bill glanced at her slim black outfit. “You have pockets?” “Professional pockets.” From inside came a chorus of children singing badly and with conviction. “Now,” Molly said. “Cake distraction.” “What cake distraction?” She pointed. A little boy had tripped near the dessert table, launching an entire tray of cupcakes into the air. Frosting struck the magician’s cape like artillery. Bill nodded respectfully. “That’s some excellent timing.” “It wasn’t timing. It’s a children’s party. Chaos is the host.” They darted through the side gate. Bill immediately stepped on a squeaky toy giraffe. “Squeak,” said the giraffe. He froze. “Squeak,” said the giraffe again, with greater accusation. Molly snatched it away. “Why are you wearing loafers?” “They’re quiet shoes.” “They have tassels.” “The tassels absorb sound.” They reached the conservatory door. Molly produced a lock pick. “Wait,” Bill said. “It’s unlocked.” Molly stared at the handle. “That’s insulting.” “It’s a family home.” “I prefer a challenge.” “You prefer being arrested with a tiny metal rake in your hand?” She opened the door. On the carpet beyond sat a mountain of brightly wrapped parcels. Bill’s eyes widened. “Sweet mercy.” “Focus.” “There’s a box shaped like a dinosaur.” “Probably a dinosaur.” “There’s another box shaped like a larger dinosaur.” “Bag them.” They began loading presents into the sack. “Do you think this one is a telescope?” Bill asked. “Why?” “It says ‘For Maisie, reach for the stars.’” “Could be socks.” “Optimist.” A voice came from the doorway. “What are you doing?” They turned. Maisie stood there in a glittery crown, holding a paper plate and a slice of cake the size of a brick. Bill smiled. “We’re… the Present Inspectors.” Molly shut her eyes. Maisie frowned. “There are Present Inspectors?” “Absolutely,” Bill said. “Very important work. We check for dangerous things.” “Like what?” “Spiders. Tax forms. Unlicensed yo-yos.” Molly stepped in. “We’re also checking whether the presents are sufficiently exciting.” Maisie considered this. “Are they?” “Terrible,” Molly said. “Every one.” Bill looked wounded. “The dinosaur?” “Especially the dinosaur.” Maisie’s face fell. Molly leaned closer. “Which means you should open them immediately, to verify our findings.” The girl brightened. “Really?” “Urgently.” Within seconds, Maisie was ripping paper from boxes with the efficiency of a hungry badger. Children flooded into the room, abandoning the magician, who was now trying to pull a rabbit from a hat and producing only raisins. Bill watched the presents vanish into delighted hands. “We’re leaving empty-handed,” he whispered. “We’re leaving unrecognised.” “We’re also leaving poorer. I bought the sack.” Molly headed for the door. Behind them, Maisie called, “Thank you, Present Inspectors!” Bill waved. “Remember: if the dinosaur is dangerous, name it Bill.” Molly dragged him into the garden. “You know,” he said, “I think we did good.” “We did not do good.” “We prevented a gift bottleneck.” “We failed a robbery.” Bill glanced back at the party. “The balloon arch is still standing.” Molly sighed. “Don’t make me regret not stealing it.”