Run: 2026-07-09-01KX409350PKYECXSNEF2FY0SJ

Molly crouched behind the hedge of number twelve, wearing a black turtleneck, black trousers, and a birthday hat shaped like a unicorn. Bill crouched beside her in a burglar’s mask decorated with glittery stars. “You look ridiculous,” Molly whispered. “You made me wear the mask.” “I made you wear something child-friendly. You chose the one that says Princess Bradley’s Magical Day.” “It was the only one with eyeholes.” Through the dining-room window, twenty children shrieked around a magician who appeared to be losing a fight with a balloon animal. The table beneath the window groaned beneath wrapped presents: dinosaurs, dolls, board games, and one suspiciously large box labelled FOR ELLIE, FROM GRAN. Bill’s eyes gleamed. “Look at that haul.” “It’s not a haul,” said Molly. “It’s a gift table.” “Same thing with more ribbons.” Molly adjusted the unicorn horn on her head. “We are not taking anything personal. We’re taking the presents, dropping them at the charity shop, and using the receipts as proof we’ve done something nice.” “The charity shop won’t give receipts for stolen birthday presents.” “Then we’ll write our own. We’re criminals, Bill, not savages.” A small dog barked from somewhere behind the gate. Bill froze. “Is that a guard dog?” “It’s a sausage dog wearing a bow tie.” “Those are the clever ones.” The front door opened. A harassed woman in a paper crown stepped out carrying a tray of squash. Molly and Bill flattened themselves into the hedge. Bill’s elbow landed in a flowerpot. The flowerpot tipped, rolled down the path, and struck a garden gnome with a loud ceramic clonk. The woman stared toward the hedge. Molly hissed, “Don’t move.” “I’ve got a leaf in my nostril.” “Don’t sneeze.” “I’m not going to sneeze.” Bill’s face twisted heroically. “You’re absolutely going to sneeze.” “No. I have discipline.” He sneezed with such force that the unicorn horn flew off Molly’s head and landed in the squash tray. The woman looked down at it. Bill stood up. “Happy birthday?” Molly rose slowly beside him. “We’re entertainers.” The woman blinked. “Are you?” “Yes,” said Molly. “We’re the, uh, Surprise Crime— I mean, Surprise Mime team.” Bill began miming being trapped in a box. Unfortunately, he mimed it with the desperate conviction of a man actually trying to escape a box. From inside, the children pressed against the window. “Do a dance!” one shouted. “Excellent idea,” said the woman, clearly too tired to resist anything wearing a unicorn horn. Molly grabbed Bill’s wrists. “Dance.” “I don’t know how.” “You’re a thief. Improvise.” They stumbled onto the patio while children cheered. Bill performed a nervous shuffle. Molly spun, kicked over a decorative watering can, and somehow recovered with a bow. The magician applauded politely, perhaps grateful that attention had shifted away from his balloon giraffe, which had become anatomically troubling. As the children poured outside, Molly glanced through the open door at the present table. “Now,” she murmured. Bill shook his head. “Can’t.” “Why not?” A little girl in a glitter crown had taken his hand. “Mr Princess,” she said, “will you help me open my presents?” Bill looked at Molly, then at the girl’s hopeful face. Molly sighed. “Fine. We steal nothing.” Bill brightened. “We could steal cake.” “That,” Molly said, “is a victimless crime.”