Run: 2026-09-23-01M36NXCXB95YFVV1NE89BCB9H

Molly spread the invitation across the dashboard. “A children’s party, Bill. Balloons, cake, presents. We enter as entertainers and leave as legends.” Bill adjusted his bow tie. “I’m not wearing the clown shoes again. The last pair honked every time I ran.” “They were supposed to honk. That was the distraction.” “It distracted me. I ran into a bouncy castle and bounced into the birthday boy’s magician.” Molly tapped the map. “This time, we pose as a hired puppet act. You carry the sack; I do the voices.” “I don’t know any puppet voices.” “Just say, ‘Hello, children,’ in a squeaky tone.” Bill practiced. “Hello, children.” A beat. “That sounded like a tax inspector,” Molly said. “I contain multitudes.” They studied the backyard, where a banner read HAPPY SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, LEO. Beneath it sat a mountain of wrapped gifts. Bill whispered, “What if Leo asks us to stay for cake?” “Then we stay for cake.” “And if he asks us to play musical chairs?” “We steal the chairs.” “That’s not stealing the presents.” “Bill, a chair is a present to someone.” He nodded solemnly. “You’re right. We need a bigger sack.” At the gate, a little girl spotted them. “Are you the puppeteers?” Molly smiled. “We are.” Bill lifted the sack. “And this is our puppet.” The sack wriggled. Molly stared at him. “You brought the dog?” “He looked lonely in the van.” The gate swung open. “Great!” said the girl. “The magician needs a volunteer!” Bill gulped. “Do magicians make dogs disappear?” “Only the bad ones,” Molly said, steering him toward the cake.