Run: 2026-07-09-01KX41FF82GHNNS0A24C99V187

Molly crouched behind the hedge, wearing a caterpillar costume that had once terrified a city councillor. Bill studied the bungalow through binoculars shaped like bananas. Streamers sagged across the garden, and a plastic pirate guarded the gate with an expression of municipal despair. Inside, children shrieked around a magician whose rabbit appeared to be filing taxes. Bill whispered, “Molly, the clown leaves gifts by window at eight, right?” Molly said, “Bill, take everything, ribbons included, then vanish before birthday cake.” Their plan was elegant in the way a shopping trolley rolling downhill was elegant. Bill had acquired a van marked Emergency Balloon Disposal, with a pineapple. Molly carried a clipboard, moustaches, and a sack labelled Definitely Not Presents. At seven fifty-nine, the magician sneezed, producing confetti and momentary chaos. The pirate toppled. The parents applauded. The rabbit escaped toward the buffet. Molly and Bill slipped through the side gate, solemnly pretending to inspect party safety. But six children, a grandmother, and a terrier wearing a sheriff’s badge guarded the presents. Bill waved the clipboard. Molly blew a whistle. Nobody moved, except the terrier, barking official questions. They exchanged a grim look. Molly produced a reliable distraction: a unicorn whoopee cushion.