Run: 2026-07-09-01KX40P4WJMDZRQJ6B445ADNG3

Molly crouched behind the hedge, peering through the slats of a white garden fence at the bungalow beyond. Balloons bobbed on the gate. A papier-mâché pirate hung from the porch, smiling with the fixed confidence of someone who had never been punched by a six-year-old. Bill adjusted his black wool cap, which bore a tiny embroidered skull and crossbones. “Why are we robbing a birthday party?” Molly whispered. “Because birthdays are where the loot is,” Bill said. “Look at that pile through the window. Dolls, games, remote-control cars. Probably jewelry.” “For a seven-year-old?” “Children are notoriously liquid.” Molly squinted. The living room was full of shrieking children in pirate hats. A magician in a purple cape made a sausage dog appear from a hat. The dog looked offended. “I thought we were taking the presents,” she said. “We are.” “All of them?” “That was the plan.” “Even the ones with glitter?” Bill hesitated. “We’ll deal with glitter strategically.” A child ran past the window wielding a foam cutlass. Behind him came another child, crying with the theatrical agony of a man denied a throne. Molly tapped the fence. “There are twelve kids in there.” “Thirteen,” Bill corrected. “The birthday boy is hiding under the table. Smart lad. He senses danger.” “He senses Kevin from school throwing cocktail sausages.” Bill unfolded a hand-drawn map. It showed the house, the garden, and a large X marked “PRESENT MOUNTAIN.” “We go through the side gate,” he said. “Kitchen window is unlatched. We enter during the magic show, cross the hall, grab the gifts, exit through the conservatory.” “That’s it?” “There is a complication.” “There’s always a complication.” “The family owns a dog.” Molly nodded toward the magician’s hat. “The sausage dog?” “No. That’s the magician’s assistant. The family dog is a Labrador named Captain Sprinkles.” “Captain Sprinkles?” “According to neighborhood intelligence, he’s friendly.” “Neighborhood intelligence being?” “Mrs. Pottle at number fourteen. She tells me everything because she thinks I’m a police officer.” “You wear a skull hat.” “She thinks I’m undercover.” They slipped through the side gate. The kitchen window was indeed unlatched, though it protested with a soft squeak as Bill lifted it. “Quiet,” Molly hissed. “I’m being quiet.” “You just told a window to be quiet.” “It started it.” Inside, the kitchen smelled of jelly, crisps, and damp pirate costumes. On the counter sat a bowl of pink punch with several plastic eyeballs floating in it. Bill pointed toward the hall. “Present mountain, two doors down.” A large golden Labrador appeared from beneath the table. Molly froze. The dog wagged so hard its entire body swayed. “Captain Sprinkles,” Bill breathed. Captain Sprinkles trotted over and dropped a soggy tennis ball on Molly’s shoe. “He’s armed,” Molly said. “He wants to play.” “We’re working.” The dog barked once, loudly enough to rattle the cupboard doors. From the living room, a woman called, “Captain Sprinkles, no barking during the magician!” Bill grabbed the tennis ball and threw it down the hall. Captain Sprinkles thundered after it, skidding into a coat stand. “Good diversion,” Molly said. “I’ve worked with professionals.” They reached the living room doorway. The present mountain stood beside a birthday banner reading AHOOY, MAX! The gifts were wrapped in pirate paper, dinosaur paper, rainbow paper, and one alarming sheet covered in smiling potatoes. Bill opened his sack. “Take the big ones first,” he said. Molly lifted a box shaped like a spaceship. “This weighs nothing.” “Maybe it’s a drone.” “It says ‘Make Your Own Slime Laboratory.’” “Valuable chemicals.” She stuffed it into the sack. Bill grabbed a parcel with a ribbon. “This one feels promising.” “It says ‘To Max, From Grandma.’” “Grandmas have money.” The magician flourished a wand. “And now, children, I shall make this coin disappear!” Every child watched him. Every child except the birthday boy, who emerged from beneath the table and stared directly at Molly. He pointed. “That lady is stealing my presents.” Molly smiled brightly. “I’m quality control.” Bill nodded. “We’re checking for pirates.” The boy considered this. “Are there pirates in them?” “Terrible ones,” Molly said. “Very small. Probably itchy.” Captain Sprinkles returned, carrying the tennis ball and wagging like a witness for the prosecution. The birthday boy narrowed his eyes. “Can I help?” Bill looked at Molly. Molly looked at the sack, already bulging with slime, potatoes, and one box that rattled ominously. “Of course,” she said. “First lesson: never trust a present with a ribbon.” Max grinned and grabbed the largest gift. Behind them, the magician shouted, “Who has stolen my rabbit?” Captain Sprinkles barked twice. Bill sighed. “New plan?” Molly hoisted the sack. “New plan.”