Max Sam stands in awe, his eyes wide as he traces the curves of the statues, imagining himself as part of the precious display. "I wish I could be a statue like that, right in the middle of everything," Charlie Sam nudges him, sporting a skeptical expression beneath his blue hair. "You always want to be in the thick of things, Max. Let's go home before it gets late,"

Gregg Ben, Max's adopted brother, leans in and whispers, concern etched on his face. "Those guys aren't just visitors. They're planning something bad—and the police here aren't what they seem," "But we can't just leave! They might steal the statues. We need to do something," "Let the police handle it. We shouldn't get involved,"

"I made this paint myself. It can make us look just like the statues—and freeze us in place," "But what if they see us move? What if they try to melt us?" "My paint can make us stay perfectly still. It's our only chance!" "This is dangerous, Max. If you won't listen, we'll need someone else to help,"

Max Sam, painted gold, stands beside Charlie Sam and Gregg Ben, their faces frozen in heroic expressions. "We told the museum director what we're up to, and they said we could try," "I hope this works. I really do,"

Charlie Sam feels his nerves fray as Sergeant Bob Marc circles the statues, his face twisted in greed. "What if they try to melt us? We aren't real gold," "Stay still, Charlie," The police begin moving the statues, but the chief—unlike the others—pauses, peering closely at Max Sam and whispering a secret promise.

"You only want my paint for profit, but it has my name on it. We share the profits, fifty percent each," The FBI agrees, and Max stands tall, proud to have protected the art and his invention. The golden statues shine brightly, a symbol of courage and cleverness in Maxville.