Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA1XXVPHRK6BGZMZJZRJGQ

Molly flattened herself against the back wall of the community hall, peering through a gap in the venetian blinds. Inside, twenty-three seven-year-olds were screaming along to a bouncy castle song while a clown named Dennis wrestled a balloon animal into submission. "Right," Bill whispered, crouching beside her with a clipboard he'd clearly stolen from a dentist's office. "Phase one. We wait for the cake." "We've been waiting for the cake for forty minutes, Bill. The cake is a lie." "The cake is a distraction. Once the candles go out, every parent in the room will be too busy filming to notice a man in a stolen clown wig walking off with the gift table." Molly looked down at her own outfit, a bright yellow raincoat with a fake moustache taped to the hood. "And what exactly am I supposed to be?" "A very sad uncle. Nobody questions a sad uncle." "I am not a sad uncle." "You're a sad uncle now. Look, the gift table's by the fire door. Forty-two presents, maybe more. Wrapped in paper with dinosaurs on it." "Dinosaurs are a crime against wrapping paper," Molly muttered. "Fine. What's the plan for the bouncy castle? Dennis is eyeing us." "Dennis is harmless. He's been eyeing everyone since his divorce." A shriek erupted from inside. A small boy in a cardboard crown had just licked the frosting off a cupcake and was holding it aloft like a trophy. "Okay," Bill said, checking his watch. "Here we go. Lights off in three, two..." The hall plunged into darkness. Somewhere a toddler began to wail. Molly slipped through the fire door, Bill close behind, and they crept toward the glittering pile of gifts. "Grab the big one," Bill hissed. "That one's shaped like a piano," Molly whispered. "How are we supposed to carry a piano?" "Carefully. Like thieves." "We're not carrying a piano, Bill." "Fine, the small ones. Stuff your pockets." Molly stuffed a dinosaur-wrapped box under her raincoat. "I think I've got a Lego set and a squeaky duck." "Perfect. Now we just need to get out before the lights come back on." The lights flickered. Dennis the clown stood frozen in the doorway, a half-inflated giraffe dangling from one hand. "Hello," he said slowly. "Those are for Tommy." Bill straightened his clown wig. "Run." Molly sprinted for the exit, a squeaky duck squeaking gleefully from beneath her coat, while Bill tripped over a bouncy castle and landed face-first in a bowl of trifle.