Run: 2026-10-27-01M5YEYCTPZ4KR7C30MNS1GQD0

Molly crouched behind the catering van, studying the birthday party through binoculars. Beyond the hedge, paper lanterns bobbed above a lawn crowded with screaming children. A bouncy castle shuddered beside the present table, where silver ribbons flashed temptingly in the sun. Bill watched, wearing a clown nose and looking unhappy. "Stop sulking. My plan is elegant, discreet, and completely foolproof, provided nobody asks why two grown adults own yet another collapsible cake trolley this week." "Elegant? You have drawn the bouncy castle as a potato, labelled my position expendable, and given the birthday boy a tiny sword for some reason." Molly smoothed the crayon map across the steering wheel. Three arrows led from the kitchen gate to the gift table, then onward through a hedge she had marked Probably Not Angry. Bill tapped the second arrow, which passed directly through a wading pool and something labelled Jelly in ominous red. "I shall enter as respectable party entertainers. You juggle, I charm the mother, and together we load every present before anyone notices your trousers again." "What is wrong with my trousers? More importantly, why must I juggle when my only verified talent is opening other people's locked garage doors quietly?" From the garden came a shriek, followed by applause. The magician had produced a dove from his hat and immediately lost it beneath a chair. Molly watched the bird sprint past the gift table. She adjusted her plan, adding one pigeon, although Bill strongly suspected she meant the dove instead. "At precisely three, you release the pigeon. During the ensuing panic, I wheel the presents through the kitchen while everyone chases your incredibly professional bird." "And if nobody chases it? Suppose the children simply continue eating cake while I stand there holding a confused pigeon and weeping from sheer embarrassment?" Bill considered this, then reached into the back seat and produced a grappling hook, three smoke bombs, and a bag marked Emergency Biscuits. Molly confiscated the smoke bombs. She allowed the biscuits after discovering they were chocolate, but drew the line firmly at swinging anywhere near the magician or pigeon. "No hooks, no smoke, and absolutely no improvised zip wires. I am thieves, Bill, not a touring circus with serious insurance problems, despite recent appearances." "Fine. Then explain why my costume includes sequins, a cape, and sufficient glitter to violate several local air quality regulations before lunch on any Saturday." Molly folded the map and checked the invitation again. Her expression changed. She turned it around, read the smaller print, then slowly lowered her binoculars. Bill waited, sensing disaster with the weary intuition of a man who had previously robbed a bank beside a police station during a school visit. "Good news. I have been hired as the entertainment, so I can walk straight through the front door without committing several additional offences this morning." "Excellent. Does the booking include cake? Because if I am wearing this nose professionally, I expect compensation, a party bag, and minimal pigeon involvement whatsoever."