Run: 2026-09-23-01M36RDK1FJ70RXPABNMCFAW9A

Molly and Bill crouched behind a hedge, watching a garden full of balloons bob in the evening breeze. A banner read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THEO. Beneath it stood a mountain of wrapped presents. “Remember,” Molly whispered, “we’re here to steal every present.” “I remember. I’m trying to forget the clown.” “The clown is harmless.” “He has a shoe phone.” “It’s a normal shoe.” “It rang, Molly.” “Maybe he has a very small foot.” Bill peered through the leaves. “There are at least twenty gifts.” “Excellent.” “Some are enormous.” “More excellent.” “One has a ribbon the size of a washing line.” “Don’t get distracted by the ribbon.” “I’m not distracted. I’m estimating how many of us it would take to carry it.” “There are two of us.” “Then we’ll need to make two trips.” “We are not making two trips. We are making one smooth, elegant exit.” “Should I bring the getaway wagon?” “You brought a wagon?” “I brought a wheelbarrow.” “Bill.” “It has a little bell.” Molly rubbed her forehead. Beyond the hedge, children chased bubbles while a parent handed out paper plates. The clown waved at them. Bill waved back before Molly could stop him. “Why did you wave?” she hissed. “He looked lonely.” “He’s a clown at a birthday party.” “Exactly. He works in a difficult field.” Molly studied the presents. “We wait until everyone’s distracted, then we—” “Sing?” “What?” “The children are singing. We could join in. Blend with the crowd.” “You can’t sing.” “I can sing one note.” “You can hum one note.” “Then I’ll hum convincingly.” “The plan is not to become part of the party.” “Why not? They have cake.” “We’re thieves.” “Thieves can enjoy cake.” A child appeared beside the hedge, holding a cupcake with one candle. “Are you hiding?” Bill looked at Molly. Molly looked at Bill. “No,” Molly said. “Yes,” said Bill. The child nodded, apparently satisfied. “You can come in. Theo says everyone gets cake.” Molly’s expression softened despite herself. “Everyone?” “Even the clown,” said the child. “He gets two pieces because he’s sad.” Bill stood. “That’s a generous policy.” “Bill,” Molly warned. “What? I’m gathering intelligence.” The child offered him the cupcake. Bill accepted it with the solemnity of a knight receiving a sword. Molly glanced again at the gifts. “We could still take them.” “We could,” Bill said. “But then we’d miss cake.” “And the children would lose their presents.” “And the clown might get sadder.” Molly sighed. “You’re making this very difficult.” “I’m making it delicious.” They stepped out from behind the hedge. The parent greeted them, mistaking them for late-arriving guests, and handed Molly a paper hat. Bill was immediately recruited to lead the birthday song. As everyone sang, he leaned toward Molly. “On the bright side, we’re now inside.” “On the brighter side,” she murmured, “we’re leaving with exactly what we came for.” “Cake?” “Cake.” “And the wheelbarrow?” “Leave it by the hedge.” Bill frowned. “But it has a bell.” “Then let it ring for the children.”