Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DAP1R78E9KYJRT0REMJEZV

Molly leaned over the sticky kitchen table, unrolling a blueprint of the Henderson house across the crumbs. "Right. Third floor, the party's in the playroom. Presents are stacked by the piano." Bill squinted at the paper and tapped the corner with a greasy finger. "Why's there a bouncy castle on the blueprint?" "Because it's a children's party, Bill. Everything's a bouncy castle." "Fine. And the clown?" "Ignore the clown. Clowns are the only security they've got, and they're terrified of us." "Nobody's terrified of me," Bill said. "I've been told I have a trustworthy face." "You have a face that's been on three wanted posters." "Those were artistic interpretations." He pulled a balaclava from his coat, held it up to his face, then frowned. "Molly, this has a cartoon duck on it." "That's the only one the charity shop had. It's camouflage." "It's a duck. Nobody sneaks past a duck." Molly sighed and pointed at the blueprint. "Listen. We go in through the cake delivery. You're the delivery man. I'm the magician's assistant." "I don't want to be the magician's assistant. Last time I was in the box and they sawed me in half with a rubbish saw. I'm still picking splinters out of my knee." "Then you can be the delivery man." "Fine. But if a kid asks me to do a trick, I'm not doing a trick." "Nobody asks a delivery man to do a trick." "Children do. They'll ask for a card trick, or a coin behind the ear, and I'll have to say no, and then they'll cry, and then a mother will look at me like I'm the devil." "Bill, you are the devil." "Well, yes, but that's not the point." Molly tapped the blueprint again. "Once we're in, I'll grab the big parcels, you grab the small ones. Keep the wrapping paper with the ribbon. It's worth more than people think." "How much more?" "About four pounds." "That's not worth more, Molly. That's just worth four pounds." "It's a start." Bill folded his arms. "And what if the birthday girl catches us?" "She won't. Her mum's already promised she'll be asleep on the sofa by eight." "And the dog?" Molly paused. "What dog?" "The one in the garden. Big thing. Sounds like a bear with a grudge." "Right. Okay. We bring sausages." "We bring sausages," Bill repeated slowly. "That's your plan." "That's a very good plan, Bill." He sighed, pulled the duck balaclava down over his face, and muttered through the wool, "Fine. Let's go steal some presents from a seven-year-old."