Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DACTNXVSSC3ZZFVZRTVZ2S

Molly tapped the blueprint with a fork. "The party's in the Hendersons' backyard. Forty kids, one bouncy castle, and a pile of presents taller than my uncle." Bill squinted at the drawing. "Why is there a fork on the blueprint?" "Because I was eating a sandwich when I drew it. Focus, Bill." "I am focused. I'm focused on the clown." Molly sighed. "The clown is not a security measure." "He's got a whistle, Molly. And a look in his eyes like he's seen things." "He's seven-year-old Dennis's uncle. He's on the payroll for balloon animals, not surveillance." She flipped the page. "Now, the plan. We slip through the side gate during cake. Everyone's staring at the candles. Nobody notices two people in cardboard reindeer costumes." Bill looked down at himself. He was wearing a cardboard reindeer costume. "Why am I a reindeer?" "Because you're the only one who fits through the gap in the hedge, and reindeer are sneaky." "Reindeer are not sneaky. They're large and they stand in the snow looking sad." "Exactly. Nobody suspects a sad reindeer." Bill nodded slowly, as if this made perfect sense. "And what are you?" Molly pulled a felt elf hat from her bag and placed it on her head with dignity. "The elf. Obviously. Elves are the ones who carry the sacks." "That's not how Christmas works." "It's a birthday party, Bill. Nobody checks the logic at a birthday party." They crept toward the hedge as the faint sound of "Happy Birthday" drifted over the lawn, sung badly by forty children and one very enthusiastic grandmother. Bill's antlers caught on a branch. He yanked free with a loud crack. From the patio, a small voice shouted, "Mommy, the reindeer's loose!" Molly grabbed his hoof. "Run." "Which way?" "Toward the presents! Grab as many as you can carry!" They scrambled across the grass, Bill clutching two giant boxes wrapped in glittery paper, Molly stuffing a plush unicorn under her arm. Behind them, the clown raised his whistle and blew it with tremendous force. Bill skidded to a stop. "Molly, the bouncy castle is moving toward us." "That's not a bouncy castle. That's Grandma." Grandma charged across the lawn, wielding a frosting spatula like a sword. Molly yelped and sprinted for the gate, the elf hat flying off behind her. Bill followed, antlers wobbling, presents clutched to his chest. "Next time," he panted, "we rob a bank." "Banks don't have cake, Bill!" They vanished down the sidewalk, leaving behind one very confused clown, forty sugared-up children, and a lone felt elf hat sitting proudly on the birthday cake.