Run: 2026-11-11-01M753ANGRPDMNPMZM804019NY

Molly was already dressed like a birthday clown when Bill finally arrived at the garden gate. "You are late, Bill, and I told the neighbors I was your cousin from the circus," Molly whispered. Bill adjusted his fake moustache and tried to look casual while holding a tiny lockpick shaped like a balloon dog. "The plan is simple," Bill said. "We walk in, we sing happy birthday, we grab the presents, and we leave before anyone notices." "That is not a plan, Bill," Molly replied. "That is a birthday song with theft sprinkled on top like cheap confetti." Behind them, the backyard sparkled with balloons, a bouncy castle, and a table groaning under a mountain of brightly wrapped boxes. "Look at that," Bill whispered. "There is a robot, a train set, and something huge that squeaks when you poke it." Molly nodded with the serious expression of a general studying enemy troops, which for her meant squinting and chewing gum very thoughtfully. "We need a distraction," Molly said. "Something loud, something messy, something that makes the parents blame the cake." "I have just the thing," Bill announced proudly. "A whoopee cushion, three rubber ducks, and a pigeon I bribed with crumbs this morning." Molly stared at him in silence while a toddler in a dinosaur costume charged past them waving a juice box like a sword. "Bill, that is not a distraction, that is a tiny parade with delusions of grandeur," Molly said. Bill shrugged and produced a cardboard cannon from his backpack, which he had painted to look like a real pirate cannon. "Confetti cannon," Bill explained. "We fire it, everyone looks, we scoop the presents into these pillowcases, and we tiptoe away." They slipped behind the shed and inflated the cannon with a bicycle pump stolen from a very confused neighbor. Molly tested the pillowcases by stuffing three beach balls inside and deciding she looked like a very lumpy astronaut. Bill practiced his innocent face in a shiny garden gnome, which only made him look like a gnome with guilt. When the appointed moment arrived, Molly wheeled the cannon to the edge of the patio and aimed it directly at the present table. Bill lit the fuse, which was actually a string of birthday candles tied together with heroic optimism and masking tape. The cannon exploded with confetti, streamers, and one rubber duck that bonked a dad on the forehead with surprising precision. Children screamed with delight, parents grabbed for cameras, and the birthday star burst into happy tears at the magnificent mess. Molly and Bill moved like graceful spies on roller skates, scooping presents into pillowcases while avoiding a toddler on a tricycle. A robot went in, a train set went in, and the huge squeaky thing went in after a brief and undignified struggle. "Alright, let's go now, very quietly," Molly said as they melted into the hedge and vanished down the alley with their loot, pursued only by applause and one brave very determined balloon.