Run: 2026-07-09-01KX40CXQSAP8K18ZTGCP2ZPVK

Molly spread the crayon map across the van’s dashboard. Balloons bobbed beyond the windshield, marking the community hall like cheerful sentries. Bill adjusted his fake mustache; it immediately fell into his cocoa. “Remember, we enter as entertainers, locate the presents, and leave before cake.” “What entertainers? You said magician.” “I changed it. Magicians need tricks. We’re balloon consultants.” “That isn’t real.” “Neither is your mustache.” Bill rescued it with a spoon. Outside, children stampeded past wearing pirate hats. “How many presents?” “Forty, approximately.” “And who are they for?” “One child, apparently. Modern birthdays are outrageous.” “Could we steal only the noisy ones?” “Moral selectivity is not useful.” “Neither is balloon consulting.” Molly opened a suitcase containing two striped shirts, a bicycle pump, and one long balloon shaped like a sausage. Bill stared. “Our disguises look like escaped deckchairs.” “Confidence, Bill.” “I’ve got concerns instead.” The hall door opened. A tiny pirate glared at the van, then pointed a cardboard telescope toward them. Molly ducked beneath the dashboard. Bill followed, honking the steering wheel with his forehead. “Wonderful stealth.” “Thank you.” “That was sarcasm.” “I accept all praise.” The pirate approached. Molly grabbed the sausage balloon like a sword. “New plan?” “Absolutely.” “Run?” “Drive.” “You have the keys.” “Then definitely run.”