Run: 2026-09-23-01M36NX03DZADTV36XDN5MZH1P

“We need a plan,” Molly whispered, peering over the garden wall. “A plan that gets us inside, gets us the presents, and gets us out before anyone notices.” Bill adjusted his bow tie. “I have a plan. We pretend to be magicians.” “You can’t do magic.” “I can make a coin disappear.” “Where does it go?” “My pocket.” “That’s called stealing, Bill. We’re trying to steal presents, not audition for a confession.” Beyond the wall, a dozen children shrieked around a birthday cake shaped like a dinosaur. Balloons bobbed above the patio. A mountain of brightly wrapped gifts sat beneath a banner reading HAPPY SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, OTTO. Bill sighed. “Look at that haul. We could be halfway to retirement.” “Your last retirement lasted eleven minutes,” Molly said. “You got bored and robbed a vending machine.” “It had a very tempting spiral of crisps.” Molly opened a clipboard. “We enter through the side gate, pose as hired entertainers, and locate the presents.” “What entertainment?” “You juggle.” “I can’t juggle.” “You can learn.” “When?” “Now.” She tossed him three oranges. Bill dropped all three. One rolled under the wall and landed among the children. A small boy picked it up. “Is this part of the show?” Molly smiled brightly. “Absolutely! The mysterious garden orange. Please return it to the magician.” Bill bowed from the shadows. “I’m Bill the Magnificent.” The boy squinted. “You look like my dentist.” “Then your dentist is a very mysterious man.” Molly grabbed Bill’s collar and hauled him down. “New plan. We’re caterers.” “We aren’t carrying food.” “We’ll carry that cake.” “It’s shaped like a dinosaur. I’m not touching a prehistoric reptile without gloves.” She shoved a tray into his hands. “Just follow my lead.” They slipped through the gate wearing aprons borrowed from a nearby clothesline. Molly marched toward the table. Bill followed, balancing the empty tray as if it contained a priceless painting. A woman with a clipboard intercepted them. “You’re the face painters?” Molly blinked. “Yes.” Bill nodded. “I’m especially good at dinosaurs.” “Wonderful. Otto loves dinosaurs. His face is over there.” A small boy sat with his cheeks puffed out, waiting patiently. Molly leaned toward Bill. “You said you could paint.” “I said I could learn to juggle. That was before the oranges attacked.” The woman placed a pot of green paint in Molly’s hand. “He wants a T. rex.” Molly painted two green triangles on Otto’s cheeks. “There. Ferocious.” Otto examined himself in a mirror. “I look like a cucumber.” “You’re a very dangerous cucumber,” Bill said. While the woman fetched more paint, Molly whispered, “The presents. Go.” Bill crept toward the gift pile. He lifted the largest box and froze. A toddler stared up at him. “That’s mine.” “Is it?” Bill asked. “It says Otto.” Bill read the tag. “Ah. I’m Otto’s delivery man.” “You’re not wearing a hat.” Bill placed the box back. “Budget cuts.” Molly joined him, empty-handed. “Abort.” “But we’re surrounded by gifts!” “And children. And parents. And one child who has identified you as a suspicious delivery man.” Otto tugged Molly’s apron. “Are you coming to my party next year?” Molly glanced at Bill. “Only if you need two very bad magicians.” “I do,” Otto said. “You can make the presents disappear.” Bill brightened. “Finally, an audience that understands our work.” Molly pointed toward the gate. “We’re leaving.” “Can we take a slice of cake?” “No.” “Then this has been a terrible heist.” “It’s been a birthday party,” she said, steering him out. “Those are much harder.”