Run: 2026-07-09-01KX41KPX618CHR3G874GPFR10

“You do realize,” Molly whispered, “that the birthday boy is six.” “Seven,” Bill corrected, peering through the hedge. “There’s a banner. It says ‘Happy Seventh, Oliver!’ Big difference. At six, they still believe in magic. At seven, they believe in magic and property law.” “Children do not believe in property law.” “They do when you touch a present. Last year I took a toy telescope from my nephew’s pile and he threatened to call the police.” “You were his uncle.” “Exactly. He knew my address.” Molly adjusted her black wool cap. “We are not stealing from Oliver. We are liberating poorly supervised consumer goods from a garden party.” “Very ethical.” “Thank you.” “You’ve got a clipboard.” “It makes us look official.” “It says ‘Municipal Balloon Inspection Unit.’” “And would you rather we go in as burglars?” Bill looked at the paper hats, the plastic dinosaurs, the bouncy castle shaped like a pirate ship, and the table sagging beneath wrapped boxes. “I was hoping for something less conspicuous.” Molly handed him a fluorescent vest. “Put this on.” “It has ‘BALLoon Compliance’ misspelled.” “Government contracts are underfunded.” A shriek came from the garden. “Pinata time!” Bill froze. “That’s not good.” “Why?” “Because once the pinata breaks, they become a mob. Tiny, sugar-fueled, armed with sticks.” “We go after the pinata.” “That’s your plan?” “The adults will be distracted by screaming. The children will be distracted by sweets. We enter, secure the presents, and leave.” “With what?” Molly nodded toward a small red wagon leaning against the fence. “That wagon has a dragon on it,” Bill said. “Camouflage.” “It has streamers.” “Speed enhancements.” “It squeaks.” “Stealth is an attitude.” Bill sighed. “All right. We walk in, inspect balloons, collect presents, depart during the candy riot.” “Precisely.” “And if anyone asks?” “We say there’s been a helium leak.” “There are no helium balloons.” “Then we say it’s a very serious leak.” Molly pushed open the garden gate. Bill followed, wearing the vest with the solemn misery of a man attending his own trial. A woman in a sunhat spotted them immediately. “Oh! Are you from the council?” Molly smiled. “Emergency balloon compliance.” The woman glanced around. “But we only have bunting.” Molly leaned close. “Bunting is balloon-adjacent.” “Oh dear.” “Don’t panic,” Bill said, finding his confidence. “Panic causes buoyancy.” The woman’s eyes widened. “Should I get the children inside?” “No!” Molly said quickly. “Absolutely not. The safest place for children during a suspected bunting event is near… presents.” “Near presents?” “Weighted objects,” Bill explained. “Keeps them grounded.” The woman hurried away, shouting, “Children! Gather around the gift table for safety!” Bill stared at Molly. “That was beautiful.” “I know.” Within seconds, twelve children clustered around the presents. Oliver, wearing a cardboard crown, looked suspicious. “Are you taking my presents?” he asked. Molly crouched. “Young man, we are checking them for dangerous helium.” “They’re Lego.” “Especially dangerous. Those bricks float directly into feet.” Bill began loading boxes into the wagon. “This one feels like a board game.” “Confiscated,” Molly said. “That one’s got my name on it,” Oliver said. “Exactly,” Bill replied. “Easy to trace.” A whistle blew. The pinata had burst. Children abandoned the gift table in a shrieking stampede. “Now,” Molly said. They wheeled the wagon toward the gate. Oliver appeared in front of them, clutching a handful of jellybeans. “You forgot my big one.” Molly looked down. A huge wrapped box remained beneath the table. “What is it?” Bill asked. “A microscope,” Oliver said. “For looking at criminals.” Bill slowly backed away. Molly grabbed the box. “We’ll inspect it thoroughly.” As they escaped into the alley, the wagon squeaking furiously, Bill grinned. “Clean job.” From the garden came Oliver’s voice. “Dad! The balloon police stole everything!” Bill winced. “Think they’ll believe him?” Molly listened to the distant adults laughing. “No,” she said. “But the microscope might.”