Run: 2026-09-23-01M36R13KK1PMD7H5B7GKPPTVE

At nine, Molly and Bill crouched behind a hedge outside the community hall, dressed as delivery people despite carrying no deliveries. Through the window, balloons bobbed over a mountain of brightly wrapped presents. A banner announced FINN IS FIVE. Bill squinted. “That’s our target.” Molly lowered her binoculars. “The child or the presents?” “I was hoping we could avoid choosing.” “The plan is simple,” Molly said. “We walk in, look respectable, and leave with every present.” Bill adjusted his hat. “I look respectable?” “You look like a man who has misplaced a respectable person.” “Good. Nobody suspects a decoy.” “Nobody suspects you of anything. They’re too busy feeling concern.” The hall door swung open before Molly could object. A woman with a clipboard appeared. “You’re the entertainers?” Molly glanced at Bill. “We are now,” he whispered. “Absolutely,” she said. “Our act is called The Unconvincing Magicians.” The woman handed Bill a wand. “Excellent. The children love magic.” Bill stared at the wand. “Do they love evidence?” Inside, six children circled the presents, guarding them with the solemnity of tiny museum curators. Finn wore a paper crown and regarded the newcomers. “Are you stealing my presents?” Molly froze. “What an unusually direct question.” Bill crouched to Finn’s height. “We were considering it, but your security is formidable.” Finn nodded. “I’m wearing socks with grips.” “Then we’ll need a distraction,” Molly murmured. “I can perform a disappearing act.” Bill produced a silk scarf. “You disappear, I’ll keep the children occupied.” “With what?” “Honesty.” He faced them. “We came to steal the presents.” The children gasped. “But now we’re going to earn them back through entertainment.” Finn frowned. “Can you juggle?” “Not responsibly.” Molly took the wand and waved it over a wrapped box. “By the ancient powers of birthday—” Nothing happened. Bill leaned in. “Maybe say please.” “Please, ancient powers.” The box stayed still. Finn opened it: a plush dinosaur sprang out. The children cheered. Bill blinked. “I have never seen a more successful robbery.” “You’ve seen one,” Molly said. “Ours.” Soon Bill juggled three oranges, two balloons, and one increasingly worried birthday cake. Molly performed a trick in which she hid behind a tablecloth and emerged wearing the paper crown. “I’m the birthday queen!” she announced. “That’s my crown,” Finn said. Molly bowed. “Then I’m the temporary queen.” “You can be minister of snacks.” At last, the presents were opened, admired, and scattered across the hall. Molly and Bill stood amid wrapping paper, sweaty and popular. The clipboard woman pressed two cupcakes into their hands. “Best entertainers we’ve ever had.” Bill looked at Molly. “We came for gifts.” “We got cupcakes.” “A troubling exchange rate.” Finn gave them each a sticker. “Now you’re officially invited next year.” Outside, they examined the stickers: one showed a smiling dinosaur; the other, a cupcake with sunglasses. “We should return these,” Molly said. “They’re stickers,” Bill protested. “I mean the invitation.” “Oh.” He peeled his from his coat and placed it carefully in his pocket. “Fine. But next year we steal the cake.” Molly raised an eyebrow. “We’ll bring plates.” “And a respectable person,” Bill said. “I know one?” “No. But we’ll keep looking.”