Run: 2026-09-29-01M3P2K21XBQKXE2WZS1C2H85E

Molly crouched behind the hydrangea bush, binoculars pressed to her face, while Bill wheezed beside her in a balloon-animal costume that was two sizes too small. "Why am I the giraffe?" he whispered. "Because the entertainer canceled, and you have the build of someone who can't say no to a hat." "It's not a hat. It's a neck. I have a neck attached to my head." "Focus. The target is a seven-year-old named Trevor. His party started at two. There are twenty-three guests, one bouncy castle, and a mountain of presents on the folding table by the patio." Bill adjusted his felt ears. "Twenty-three kids. Molly, I've cracked vaults in Zurich. I've never faced a pack of sugared-up second graders." "That's why we have a plan." She pulled a crumpled napkin from her pocket and unfolded it with great ceremony. "Phase one, you enter as Gerald the Giraffe and announce a dance contest. Every child goes to the lawn." "And the parents?" "Parents will be at the wine cooler, avoiding eye contact with one another. Phase two, I roll the wagon in through the side gate, disguised as the cake delivery." "There's a cake?" "Ten-tier unicorn. I'm keeping it." Bill stared at her. "That's not in the plan." "It's a bonus. Phase three, we load the presents into the wagon, then exit through the hedge while you lead a conga line in the opposite direction." "A conga line," Bill repeated flatly. "Kids love a conga line." "What if somebody recognizes me?" "Bill, you're a giraffe. Nobody has ever recognized a giraffe." From the yard came a shriek, followed by the crash of something plastic. A small voice yelled, "Trevor bit the pony!" Bill flinched. "There's a pony?" "There's always a pony. Ignore the pony." "The pony looks at me like it knows." "It's a pony, Bill, not a detective." Molly checked her watch. "Ninety seconds. Are you ready?" He took a shaky breath and squeezed his giraffe head under one arm. "What if they ask me to make a balloon animal?" "Then you make a balloon animal." "I don't know how!" Molly sighed and pulled a long yellow balloon from her jacket. "Twist it in the middle. Call it a dog. Nobody's going to argue with you." "What if it pops?" "Then you scream and run, and the kids will think it's part of the show." Bill nodded slowly and pulled the head back on. His voice came out muffled. "For the record, this is the stupidest job we've ever done." "For the record, it's also the most profitable. Trevor's dad owns three car dealerships. Those aren't Legos in there. Those are Lego *Technic* sets." "Oh," Bill said, standing taller. "Well, why didn't you say so?" He burst from the bushes with arms flapping. "HELLO, CHILDREN! IT IS I, GERALD THE GIRAFFE!" Twenty-three children turned to stare. The pony whinnied. Molly grinned, grabbed the wagon handle, and whispered, "Show time."