Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA36CPJZVFN402VWJQ5MAC

The rain had finally given up on the cul-de-sac by the time Molly and Bill crouched behind a hedge across from the Pemberton house, where forty-two seven-year-olds were screaming over a bouncy castle shaped like a dragon. "Forty-two," Bill whispered, squinting at a crumpled notepad. "That's a lot of presents." "Which is why we're doing this properly," Molly hissed. "Did you park the van?" "I parked the van." "Where?" "Behind the ice cream truck." "Bill, the ice cream truck is the getaway vehicle." "Well, it's not going anywhere, is it? Its wheels are in the mud." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose and reached into her coat for the disguises. She produced a pair of novelty clown glasses with fake nose attached and handed them over. Bill was already wearing a balloon hat shaped like a giraffe, which he had clearly been tinkering with for the past hour. Three weeks of planning had gone into this. Molly had drawn diagrams on the back of a pizza box. Bill had insisted on a code name, Operation Pass the Parcel, a title Molly had vetoed twice and would veto a third time if he brought it up again. "Right," Molly said, checking her watch. "Phase one. You go through the side gate, distract the bouncy castle attendant, and I slip into the garage where the presents are stacked." "What do I say to the attendant?" "Anything. Be charming." Bill straightened his giraffe hat. "I am extremely charming." "You once tried to sell a dog a timeshare." "The dog was interested." A ball bounced over the hedge and landed squarely in front of Molly's face. A small boy in a cape peered through the leaves. "Are you the magic man?" he asked. Molly froze. Bill, without missing a beat, bowed deeply. "I am the magic man. And this is my assistant, Doris." "I'm not Doris," Molly muttered. "Doris is going to make your birthday wishes come true," Bill declared, pulling a coin from behind the boy's ear, which had been in his sleeve the whole time. The boy gasped and ran off shouting about it. Molly stared at Bill. "That was not part of the plan." "Improvisation, Molly. The mark of a master thief." "The mark of a master thief is not getting spotted by a seven-year-old in a cape." Bill grinned. "Relax. Phase one is going brilliantly." Behind them, the bouncy dragon collapsed with a long, sad sigh, and forty-two children began to wail in unison. "Now go," Molly whispered. "Before they figure out who ate the cake."