Run: 2026-10-27-01M5YEFMAN3BK47CN6TYY5198X

Molly spread the blueprints across the kitchen table, weighting each corner with a different condiment. The ranch dressing marked the front door; the hot sauce indicated danger; and the mayonnaise had no tactical purpose but refused to stand anywhere else. Bill squinted at the drawing through his novelty detective glasses. “According to my intelligence, the party starts at two. By two-fifteen, the presents should be unattended.” “Your intelligence is a picture of an invitation taped to a cereal box, Bill.” Molly tapped the box. Its cartoon tiger wore a paper mustache, which Bill insisted made the information look more confidential. Their target was the sixth birthday of a boy named Jasper, whose parents had rented the community hall and hired a magician with a reputation for losing rabbits. The invitation promised cake, games, and a mountain of presents. Bill had circled “mountain” three times, then drawn a flag on top. “We go in disguised as entertainers. You make balloon animals; I gather the gifts while everyone is distracted.” “I can make one balloon animal: a snake. It is usually dead.” Bill demonstrated with a limp yellow balloon. Molly inspected it solemnly, then placed it beside the mayonnaise for moral support. They had considered disguises before. Their attempt to impersonate plumbers had ended with a flooded bathroom and an invoice from an actual plumber. Their attempt to impersonate librarians had been more convincing, but Molly had developed such a taste for historical biographies that she forgot to steal anything at all. “What if we come as clowns? Nobody questions a clown carrying an enormous sack of suspiciously gift-shaped objects.” “Everyone questions clowns, Bill. That’s why they keep offering them little cars.” He considered this while pulling a red nose from his pocket. It squeaked indignantly under the pressure of his thumb. Molly drew a circle around the gift table on the blueprint, then a second circle around the refreshments. Her stomach made a sound like a drainpipe swallowing a trombone. Outside, rain rattled against the windows. Inside, the mayonnaise finally toppled onto its side, taking the entire west wall with it. “Perhaps we should reconsider. Jasper is six, and stealing his presents seems a bit unkind.” “Excellent point. We could steal the cake instead first, but then we’d need smaller forks.” Molly stared at him until the balloon snake rolled off the table and landed with a faint, disappointed, rubbery sigh. Then Bill noticed the small print at the bottom of the invitation. Instead of gifts, guests were asked to bring donations for the children’s hospital. The mountain would be made of books, toys, and pajamas. He slowly removed his detective glasses, revealing another, smaller pair of detective glasses underneath them. “We can’t steal those. We’re thieves, not monsters. Besides, hospital pajamas never fit my elbows.” “Then we’ll bring a present ourselves. Something generous, tasteful, and definitely not that balloon snake.” Bill picked up the snake anyway. It deserved a second chance, and perhaps a tiny pair of detective glasses too.