Run: 2026-09-23-01M36R5HRF3NP3W1M6JX07HH9G

Molly spread a napkin across the café table. On it she had drawn a lopsided cake, three balloons, and a question mark wearing a hat. “Is that the party hall?” Bill asked. “It’s the party hall.” “Why is it shaped like a boot?” “That’s the cake.” Bill leaned closer. “Then what’s the boot?” “The party hall.” He nodded. “Good. We’ll need a better map.” “We don’t need a map. We need a plan.” “Those are usually the same thing, except one has more arrows.” Molly tapped the question mark. “The presents will be here.” “How do you know?” “Because children put presents beside cakes.” “Children put jam in their hair. I wouldn’t base a criminal enterprise on their customs.” “Fine. We enter the party, locate the gifts, and leave with every last one.” “Every last one?” Bill frowned. “That sounds greedy.” “We’re thieves, Bill.” “I thought we were specialists in temporary borrowing.” “You once borrowed a bicycle and mailed it back in pieces.” “It was a folding bicycle.” Molly folded the napkin in half. “We need disguises.” “I can be a magician.” “You can’t do magic.” “I can make a coin disappear.” “Where does it go?” “Into my sleeve.” “Then you can make a coin appear in your sleeve. That’s not the same.” “I’ll need a longer sleeve.” Molly sighed. “Perhaps we go as entertainers.” “I can juggle.” “You dropped three oranges into a fountain.” “They were slippery.” “They were oranges.” “I can juggle balloons.” “Everyone can juggle balloons. They’re balloons.” “Exactly. I’ll blend in.” Molly stared at the napkin. “Then, once the children are distracted—” “With balloons?” “With the cake.” “Are we stealing the cake too?” “No.” “Because that’s the sort of detail a plan should settle early.” “We take the presents and go.” “What if there’s a gift for us?” “There won’t be.” “What if there’s a card addressed to ‘Two Handsome Gentlemen’?” “Then you may keep the card.” Bill sat back, offended. “I’m not doing this for cards.” A little girl at the next table was carefully wrapping a cardboard box in newspaper. She tied it with string, then wrote something on a tag in large, uneven letters. Bill glanced over. “What’s she making?” “Probably a present.” “For the party?” Molly looked at the drawing on their napkin: a cake, balloons, a question mark in a hat. For a moment, the plan seemed less like a plan and more like two grown adults trying to outwit a room full of children. “What would you do with all those presents?” she asked. “Sell them.” “To whom?” Bill paused. “People who like presents.” “People who like presents usually prefer choosing their own.” “Then we’d… redistribute them.” “By keeping the money?” “Redistribution is complicated.” Molly stood. “We’re not stealing from children.” Bill rose too. “I was just about to say the same thing.” “You were not.” “I was approaching it from the other direction.” They left a few coins on the table. Bill picked up the napkin. “Don’t,” Molly said. “I’m saving the map.” “It’s a cake.” “Could be useful. We’re going to the party, aren’t we?” “To return the napkin?” “To bring a gift.” Molly eyed him. “You have a gift?” Bill produced a coin from his sleeve. She looked at it. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll buy something.”