Run: 2026-10-27-01M5YETPBERYTXYWDCYHBRCMZE

Molly spread the invitation across the steering wheel. Bill, wearing a false moustache for reasons he refused to explain, leaned closer. “Target: number twelve, Maple Crescent. Saturday, two o’clock. Theme: dinosaurs. Security: one grandmother, six toddlers, and a balloon artist named Gary.” “Gary sounds connected.” “Gary sounds like a man who can make a poodle.” “Same thing in my world.” Molly tapped the hand-drawn map. “We enter as caterers. You carry the cake. I carry the empty cake boxes.” “Why empty?” “Because after I sing, I fill them with presents.” “Why am I the cake man?” “Because you have the wrists of a pastry chef.” “That’s not a thing.” “It is in France. Also, Oliver’s mother asked for a dinosaur cake, and you’re the only one who can roar in buttercream.” “I can roar in buttercream?” “You did last Christmas.” “That was brandy.” “Exactly. You’re versatile.” “I preferred you before the notes.” Bill frowned. “That’s your plan? Relying on musical theatre?” “My plan has costumes, timing, and a getaway route. Your last plan had a ferret and a legal disclaimer.” “The ferret was union.” Outside, traffic sighed past their van. A plastic crown rolled beneath Bill’s seat. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m not singing.” “You are singing. You’re also doing the dinosaur dance.” “Molly, I have dignity.” “You own shoes that light up.” “They help me flee responsibly.” She handed him a green apron. “At two fifteen, Gary starts the balloon swords. Every child will want one. Every parent will film. That’s when we move the gift table into the kitchen.” “And the grandmother?” “Bingo champion. Competitive. I’ve entered her in an emergency raffle.” “You can’t just invent a raffle.” “I can if the prize is a cruise.” “Is there a cruise?” “There’s a brochure.” Bill studied the invitation again. “These presents are for a five-year-old named Oliver.” “Yes.” “We’re stealing from Oliver.” “We’re borrowing Oliver’s entire material future.” “That sounds worse.” “It sounded better in my head.” A pause. Bill peeled at his moustache, winced, and smoothed it back. “What if one present is a puppy?” “Then we return everything and buy Oliver an apology bicycle.” “What if it’s a drum kit?” “We leave that and take the puppy.” “Agreed.” Molly folded the map. “Remember: no crying, no running, no threatening anyone with a baguette.” “That was one time.” “You were holding it like a sword.” “It was a very crusty sword.” At one forty, they parked beside a hedge shaped suspiciously like a rabbit. Bill lifted the cake box; Molly lifted six empty ones. From the house came shrieks, applause, and Gary shouting that somebody had bitten his balloon stegosaurus. Bill swallowed. “Last chance to become respectable.” Molly rang the bell. “After this job.” The door opened. A woman in a party hat beamed at them. “Caterers?” “Absolutely,” said Molly. “Magicians,” said Bill simultaneously. Molly stepped on his shoe. He recovered with a bow. “Catering magicians. We make lunch disappear.” The cake box in Bill’s arms began barking.