Run: 2026-10-27-01M5YHT1MBG4Y8CEH3MNSH6NEH

Molly spread the plan across the steering wheel, anchoring one corner with a doughnut and the other with Bill’s hand. Beyond the windscreen, Sunnybrook Village Hall glittered with balloons, bunting, and the sort of happiness that made her teeth itch. A banner read HAPPY SIXTH BIRTHDAY, POPPY! Beneath it, presents rose like a small, expensive alp. “Tell me we’re not robbing children,” Bill said. “We’re robbing Santa.” “That makes it feel almost traditional.” Bill peered through binoculars. “I count thirty-two parcels, one clown, and a sausage dog wearing a waistcoat.” “The dog’s our main problem. Clowns can be negotiated with.” “Can they?” “Not with dignity. Now, phase one: you wheel in the empty catering trolley and tell them you’re Bongo, the birthday bear.” Bill lifted a furry head from the footwell. “Why am I Bongo?” “Because the bear suit fits you, and because my mother didn’t raise me to be ridiculous before lunch.” “Your mother raised you to forge library cards.” “She believed in literacy. Phase two: I enter as Madam Zaza, children’s entertainer. While I distract everyone with balloon modelling, you load the trolley.” “What balloons?” Molly displayed three sad, shapeless rubber loops. “These.” “That’s a worm being sick.” “It’s a giraffe if the child has imagination. Phase three: I announce that Poppy’s final surprise is outside. Everybody stampedes into the garden. You take the trolley through the kitchen, I collect you at the side gate, and we’re away before the jelly sets.” Bill studied the diagram. “You’ve drawn our escape through a bouncy castle.” “That’s not a bouncy castle. That’s the vicar.” “Why is the vicar wearing a tiara?” “Fancy dress. The invitation says ‘Princesses and Pirates.’” Bill slowly looked at the bear head. “Then why have you got me dressed as wildlife?” “Versatility.” “And what are you wearing?” Molly produced an eyepatch, a plastic parrot, and a tutu. “Princess pirate.” “Of course. What if someone asks Madam Zaza to perform magic?” “I’ll make the clown disappear.” “How?” “I’ll pay him to leave. He’s already offered. Says the dog knows where he lives.” Bill folded the plan. “This is our worst idea since we robbed the aquarium.” “We got a penguin.” “We got a fine and a penguin-related restraining order.” Somebody inside cheered. A woman waved from the doorway, mistaking them for the entertainment, and Molly waved back with the serene confidence of a woman holding three dead balloons. “They think we’re entertainers.” “Excellent. Phase one’s started.” “Molly, I can’t dance.” “You’re a bear. Look disappointed and occasionally point at nothing. Children adore that.” Bill pulled on the head. “What does Bongo do?” “Birthdays, mostly. Try not to get attached to the presents.” “And if the dog arrests us?” “Plead insanity. Your bear head is compelling.” Bill looked through the eyeholes, then pointed towards the hall. “One last thing.” “What?” “The real Bongo just arrived.” Molly did not blink. “Change of plan. You’re Bongo’s brother. Look festive, and don’t mention the penguin until we’ve got all the presents.”