Run: 2026-10-27-01M5YF21KDWQW2TNNDT4B55BSQ

Molly spread the birthday invitation across the kitchen table, pinning one corner with a pickle jar and the other with Bill’s suspiciously professional gleaming lockpicks. “The target is Saturday, two o’clock. Twelve children, two entertainers, and a cake shaped like a dragon. The presents arrive before the sugar takes effect.” Bill examined the invitation through a magnifying glass, although the letters were an inch tall. He nodded gravely at the illustrated dragon’s cheerful, frosting-covered face. “What kind of dragon? Because if it’s one of those realistic ones, we’ll need a bigger bag and possibly somebody experienced in handling imaginary fire.” Molly took the magnifying glass away and placed a blueprint beside the invitation. It was actually a takeaway menu, but she had added red arrows. “We enter disguised as entertainers. You make balloon animals while I gather every present into a sack. Then we leave through the side gate unnoticed.” Bill produced a balloon from his pocket and inflated it. After several squeaky twists, he held up something resembling a sausage suffering a medical emergency. “That’s a dachshund. Or a snake that swallowed a dachshund. Either way, the children will be distracted by my extraordinary commitment to science of anatomy.” Molly studied the balloon, then drew a small skull beside the entrance on her menu. Somewhere outside, a dog barked, perhaps in professional canine solidarity. “There’s another issue. The birthday girl is my niece, and she once caught me stealing her nose. She still demands it back at every Christmas.” Bill lowered the balloon. His expression shifted from entrepreneurial enthusiasm to the guilty confusion of a man discovering that children owned the toys in question. “Hold on. Are we stealing presents from an actual child? I thought children’s party meant a political organization, like the ones that promise free biscuits.” Molly looked offended, then thoughtful, then briefly hungry. She turned the menu over, revealing a coupon for a free dessert with any large family meal. “Obviously we aren’t keeping them. Her parents asked me to move everything inside before the rain. I just wanted to make the assignment feel glamorous.” Bill considered this betrayal while his dachshund slowly deflated. Its long, mournful squeak seemed to express everything he felt about unpaid work and surprise relatives. “You could have told me. I spent forty pounds on this entertainer costume, and the trousers make a loud noise every time I sit down.” As if summoned, the trousers emitted a trumpet blast. Molly stared at Bill, who stared back, the two of them resisting the urge to test it again. “Wear it anyway. I’ll bring the sack, you bring the balloons, and when the presents are safe, we can steal something nobody will miss: cake.” Bill stood, sat, and stood again. Three triumphant blasts accompanied his decision, while the deflated dachshund slipped from the table and vanished under the refrigerator. “Deal. But if your niece asks about her nose, you’re the mastermind and I’m just the driver. Also, I’m taking the dragon’s head for myself.”