Run: 2026-07-09-01KX404592ZHGT0C2C66Y9A5FB

Molly unfolded the crayon map across the dashboard while balloons bobbed beyond the windshield. Bill adjusted his borrowed clown nose and glared at the community hall. “The presents are behind the cake table,” Molly said. “We enter during the magician’s finale.” “I refuse to crawl from a hat.” “You’re dressed as a clown, Bill.” “I’m dressed as humiliation.” Children shrieked inside. A papier-mâché dragon watched the thieves from beside the entrance, its painted grin suggesting it knew their plan and disapproved. “We need code names,” Bill said. “We have names.” “Professional names. I’m Night Falcon.” “You’re Bongo.” “Then you’re Sprinkles.” “I will abandon you.” The doors opened, releasing three sugar-powered children. Molly ducked. Bill honked accidentally, and the children charged, demanding balloon animals. Within seconds, he was twisting sausages while Molly slipped inside. “Abort!” Bill whispered through his lapel microphone. “Why?” “They want a giraffe.” “Make one.” “I only know snakes.” “Add legs.” Molly reached the gift mountain, lifted a sparkling box, and read the label. Her shoulders sagged. Every present bore the same charity sticker. “These are for the orphanage,” she murmured. Bill entered wearing six balloon snakes. “So?” “We’re not monsters.” A child hugged his knee. Bill sighed. “Fine. We steal the cake.” “The magician already did.” “Night Falcon respects competition.”