Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA79TNQNAPW5B4ZQW83EBS

The van smelled of wet dog and stale crisps, which was why Molly had parked it two streets away from the Henderson house. Bill sat in the passenger seat, gripping a clipboard he had labelled MASTER PLAN in thick red marker. The bungalow across the road glowed with fairy lights, and every few seconds a shriek of laughter rolled out of the open windows like a siren. Molly raised a pair of binoculars to her eyes. "Right. How many presents are we talking about?" "Forty-three, according to the invitation. Plus one piñata, which I'm told is full of sweets, and which I'm not stealing, because I'm not a monster." "You're a thief." "I'm a professional thief with ethics." Bill flipped the clipboard over. "Step one. We sneak through the back garden while the magician does his trick with the rabbit." "Step one is you stop calling it a plan." Molly lowered the binoculars. "There's no magician. There's a man dressed as a giant banana, and he's been crying in the hedge for ten minutes." "Bananas are unpredictable. Step two, disguises." Bill produced a moustache from his coat pocket and held it up triumphantly. "I'm not wearing that." "It's a very good moustache. Aunt Pearl gave it to me." "Your Aunt Pearl gave you a moustache?" "She's had a difficult life." He pressed it onto his upper lip, then looked at her expectantly. "Now you." Molly stared at him for a long moment. Then she plucked a party hat from the dashboard, where it had been sitting since the last job, and jammed it onto her head. "This is the only disguise I'm wearing." "That's a party hat." "Exactly. Nobody questions a party hat. We walk in like we belong." Bill's moustache twitched. "Brilliant. And if anyone asks, we're the uncles." "We are not uncles." "Uncle Gerald and Uncle Dennis. Very respectable. Gerald has a limp." They slipped out of the van, crossed the quiet street, and crept along the Hendersons' side path. Molly tripped over a garden gnome, caught herself on a washing line, and nearly brought down an entire row of pegged socks. Bill froze against the fence, moustache quivering, until a dog across the road barked and the coast was clear. At the back door, a tiny girl in a fairy costume stood holding a plastic wand, staring at them with enormous suspicion. "Who are you?" she demanded. Molly smiled her most convincing smile. "We're the uncles." "Uncle Gerald has a limp," the girl said. "You don't have a limp." Bill hobbled sideways. "Ah. Yes. Recent development." The girl narrowed her eyes, then turned and bellowed over her shoulder, "MUMMY, THERE'S TWO WEIRDOS IN THE GARDEN AND ONE HAS A MOUSTACHE." Molly grabbed Bill's sleeve. "Plan B." "I don't have a plan B." "Run!"