Run: 2026-09-23-01M36P49BY6S9QPF69H3GG75R8

Molly studied the garden through binoculars. Beyond the hedge, a banner sagged over the patio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEO! Beneath it sat a mountain of wrapped presents, guarded by six children, one distracted magician, and a golden retriever wearing a paper crown. “Your intelligence said the presents would be unattended,” Bill whispered. “My intelligence was a balloon salesman.” “That’s not intelligence. That’s a man who knows how to inflate things.” Molly lowered the binoculars. “The presents are unattended between the magician’s rabbit trick and the cake.” “How long is that?” “Three minutes.” “Three minutes is enough time to rob a bank if the bank is poorly supervised.” “This is a children’s party. The security is worse.” Bill peered over the hedge. The dog spotted him and wagged its tail with immediate, treacherous enthusiasm. “Your disguise is working,” Molly said. “I’m dressed as a clown.” “You’re dressed as a burglar wearing a clown nose.” “The nose is to confuse witnesses.” “It’s confusing me.” They had arrived in a borrowed delivery van painted with a smiling cupcake. Bill had insisted on the cupcake because it looked “trustworthy.” Molly had pointed out that the van’s side door was held shut with a belt. Bill had called that “a secondary security feature.” Now the belt had slipped. “Before we go in,” Molly said, “review the plan. You distract the magician. I collect the presents. We load them into the van and leave.” “What do I distract him with?” “Ask to see the rabbit.” “I’m allergic to rabbits.” “You’re allergic to any animal with opinions.” A shriek came from the patio. The magician had produced a bouquet of scarves. Children applauded, the dog barked, and an adult began filming. “Now,” Molly said. They slipped through the hedge. Molly wore a party-hat-shaped helmet and carried an enormous sack decorated with cartoon dinosaurs. Bill marched beside her, trying to look festive and succeeding only in looking like a man wanted by several birthday parties. A little girl intercepted him. “Are you the clown?” “Yes,” Bill said. “Tell me a joke.” “Why did the robber cross the playground?” “Why?” “He was being chased.” The girl considered this. “That’s not funny.” “It wasn’t a joke. It was a confession.” Molly had reached the presents. She lifted the first box. Something inside squeaked. “Careful,” Bill hissed. “That one may be alive.” “It says ‘Build-Your-Own Robot.’” “Robots can squeak.” The magician turned. “You two—are you with the party?” “Of course,” Molly said, balancing three boxes. “We’re the entertainment.” “Then make a rabbit appear,” he said. Bill leaned toward Molly. “I don’t have a rabbit.” “Neither does he. That’s why he keeps doing scarves.” The golden retriever trotted over and seized the sack in its teeth. Bill tugged. The dog tugged back. A present flew out, bounced off a balloon, and landed in the cake. Everyone gasped. Molly looked at the icing-covered box, then at the children. “Surprise! The cake is also a present.” The birthday boy laughed. The others followed. Even the magician applauded, perhaps relieved to have found a trick he understood. Bill let go of the sack. “We’re leaving empty-handed?” “Not empty-handed,” Molly said. She picked up two slices of cake. The dog barked. “Fine,” Bill said. “Three slices.” They retreated through the hedge while the party sang. Behind them, the birthday boy opened the robot kit. It squeaked. Bill shuddered. “I knew it was alive.”