It was the night of the 5th November, and a gang of plotters assembled in the moonlight. Tonight's plot was simple: celebrate Gill’s 600th mission and seed the town with future green rebellions.

Their meeting ritual began with a secret rations exchange, cupcakes handed round in honour of Gill's 600th deed. Energised by frosting and plotting spirit, the crew mounted their steeds and took to the lanes, powder-keg enthusiasm in their legs.

They moved like a midnight patrol, scenting hedgerows for spoils. After a brisk run and a quick cycle, two kilometres claimed from the night, the scouts found a hedgerow heavy with red treasure. Swift hands became harvesters; berries poured into the sack like captured rubies. The haul was declared mission success with triumphant whispers.

The two-wheeled detachment peeled away to tackle the second front: clearing the aftermath of Marsh Farm’s pyrotechnics. They swept embers of fiery celebration and litter from the fields, leaving no trace of the night's noisy revels.

The runners bore the berry trove to the Parks team’s volunteer compound in Wardown Park. There the fruits would be rendered into seed mixture, a quiet alchemy that would turn tonight’s small rebellions into sapling uprisings. Plans were made in hushed, excited tones for the future forest the town would not know had been born by moonlight.

Final sortie: People’s Park, oak-hunting under streetlamp halos. The search was thorough and hopeful. At last one noble oak stood sentinel, but the acorn coffers were bare. The conspirators catalogued the defeat with good humour; a future rendezvous was already plotted.

They dispersed back into town. Gill’s 600th deed celebrated, hedgerow bounty secured, fireworks aftermath cleared, another night where small acts in the darkness combined into a larger plot for the common good. The acorn cache would be sought another night, until then the conspirators smiled and vanished into the dark.