Run: 2026-07-09-01KX41NY2VCCDDDEW68BRW7EFS

Molly crouched behind the hedge, studying balloons bobbing over the garden fence. A clown shaped like a carrot waved at nobody. “Children’s parties have layers,” Bill whispered. “Like cake?” “Like security. Cake is merely morale.” Molly adjusted her black gloves. “We’re stealing presents, not invading a fortress.” “The bouncy castle is a distraction unit. The magician is surveillance. And that pony knows things.” “It’s wearing a party hat, Bill.” “Exactly. Camouflage.” Inside, shrieking children chased bubbles while parents clustered around a table of suspiciously unattended prosecco. “Window’s open,” Molly said. “Gift pile is beside the sofa.” “Too obvious.” “That’s generally where presents go.” Bill produced a laminated floor plan. “We enter through the shed, cross the patio, neutralize the piñata, then—” “Neutralize it?” “It contains candy. Candy causes chaos.” Molly peered through the fence. “The birthday girl is six.” “Six-year-olds are unpredictable criminals.” A small boy spotted them. “Mum! There’s a lady in the bushes!” Molly smiled brightly. “We’re entertainers.” Bill sprang up. “I’m Professor Balloon!” “You’re wearing burglar black.” “Academic black.” The boy frowned. “Do you do tricks?” Bill grabbed a balloon from the hedge. “Observe. I make presents disappear.” Molly hissed, “That is exactly the trick we’re not announcing.” From the garden, the clown shouted, “Anybody seen the gift bags?” Bill bowed. “Showtime.”