Run: 2026-07-09-01KX40Q4Q9Z6MZ1EN4ZMFFYEA9

Molly crouched behind the hedge, studying the garden’s balloon-festooned gates. Bill wore a black turtleneck, ski mask, and a badge reading HELLO, MY NAME IS UNCLE GARY. “Why are you dressed like a burglar?” “Because we’re burglars.” “We’re infiltrating a five-year-old’s birthday party. You need a paper crown and suspiciously clean shoes.” “I brought lock picks.” “You brought a kazoo. The lock picks are in the loot bag.” Bill checked the bag. It jingled. “Why does it jingle?” “Emergency distractors.” “Those are maracas.” “Exactly. Nobody suspects rhythm.” Across the lawn, children shrieked around a magician making balloon dogs. A pyramid of presents glittered beneath a picnic table. “Target acquired,” Molly whispered. “Small packages, big value,” Bill said. “Probably dolls. Maybe a drone.” “Could be socks.” “Children get socks?” “Rich children get disappointed.” A woman at the gate waved. “Are you two here for Daisy?” Bill froze. “Say yes,” Molly hissed. “Yes,” Bill said. “We love Daisy. Huge fan. Her work is… colorful.” The woman smiled. “And your relation?” Molly grabbed Bill’s arm. “He’s Uncle Gary.” “I am?” “He’s going through a divorce.” The woman’s smile became sympathetic. “Oh. Then please take cake.” Bill accepted a plate topped with frosting and a plastic unicorn. “Phase one successful,” he murmured. “That was cake.” “Every operation needs morale.” They slipped toward the presents. Bill lifted a box, shaking it. “Train set,” he said. “Put it down.” “But it’s electric.” “So is the fence, apparently.” The hedge behind them crackled. Bill yelped, dropped the box, and the magician announced, “Now, children, watch the volunteer disappear!”