Run: 2026-10-27-01M5YF750FHX7NFET9G0GC5XVJ

Molly unrolled the blueprint across the bonnet of Bill's car. It was a crayon picture of a castle, stolen from the party invitation. “Right,” Bill said. “I go in through the window.” “That’s a bouncy castle.” “I go in bouncy, then.” “You’ll bounce out again with a present stuck to your face.” “Not if I wear the false moustache.” Molly looked at him. “The moustache isn’t a disguise. It’s a cry for help.” Bill folded his arms. “Fine, mastermind. What’s your plan?” “We enter as entertainers. You’re a clown. I’m the astonishing Madame Gizmo.” “What do I do?” “Nothing. For once, your natural talents are useful.” “And what do you do?” “Distract the children with magic while you move the presents into our cake.” Bill stared at the enormous cardboard cake beside the car. “Why is there a cake?” “Because no one suspects cake.” “I suspect that cake. It has wheels.” “Custom cake.” “It has an exhaust pipe.” “Luxury custom cake.” A kazoo squeaked inside Bill’s pocket. He took it out and blew a solemn note. “Is that our getaway signal?” Molly asked. “No. This is.” He blew again, producing a noise like a goose entering a tax meeting. “Perfect. Every parent will look at you.” “Thank you.” “That wasn’t praise.” Bill consulted the invitation. “Party starts at two. We’ve got fourteen children, one magician, and a woman called Linda who has threatened to bring her own karaoke machine.” “We can use Linda.” “How?” “At exactly two fifteen, Linda sings. At two sixteen, every window in the street shatters. We stroll in wearing earplugs and expressions of concern.” “And the presents?” “Under the table by the jelly.” “Can I have some jelly?” “No.” “One spoonful?” “No.” “Gigantic spoonful?” Molly tapped the drawing. “Focus. We load the presents, start the cake, and meet you behind the shed.” “What if the shed’s locked?” “It’s a shed, not Fort Knox.” “What if there’s a dog?” “Bring a sausage.” “What if the dog’s vegetarian?” “Bring a disappointing sausage.” Bill nodded gravely and wrote this down. “And if we’re caught?” “You do the clown routine.” “I don’t have a clown routine.” “Exactly. They’ll beg us to leave.” “What about party bags?” “We’re not stealing party bags.” “But they contain bubbles.” “You own bubbles.” “These are criminal bubbles.” “Bill.” “And possibly a kazoo.” “You already have a kazoo.” “That is a terrible attitude, Molly.” “I need a backup. What if my first kazoo is injured during the operation?” “Then I can finish the job in blissful, kazooless silence.” Molly checked her watch. Somewhere beyond the hedge, children cheered as the bouncy castle inflated with a groan. “Ready?” she said. Bill put on his red nose. “Born ready.” “You were born wearing that nose?” “My mother had a difficult time.” They lifted the cake. It immediately rolled downhill, through the hedge, and into the party. From inside came Linda’s delighted cry: “Ooh! A karaoke cake!” Bill turned to Molly. “New plan?” Molly sighed. “Yes. We steal Linda.”