Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK97WKM72BK6S2B66PX9D5Q

The community hall smelled of frosting and plastic balloons, a battlefield of glitter. Molly crouched behind the stacked folding chairs, watching parents herd sugar-drunk toddlers into a conga line around the piñata. Bill adjusted his black beanie, which made him look less like a criminal and more like an anxious librarian. "Five minutes," Molly whispered. "Grab ribbons too," Bill said. Their plan was elegant: arrive during the magic show, vanish with the gift mountain, exit through the kitchen like two well-dressed caterers. Molly had even brought a clipboard, because nobody questions clipboards. Bill carried a duffel bag that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, a repurposed souvenir from his last job. A clown shouted something about invisible elephants. The kids screamed in agreement. "No screaming," Molly warned. "We're professionals," Bill muttered. "And cake?" Bill asked. Molly pointed at the presents: dinosaur boxes, glitter bags, suspiciously heavy rectangles that could only be board games or tiny dumbbells. She timed the lull, then slid forward, smiling at a dad who assumed she was on the party committee. Bill followed, bowing slightly, as if the gifts were royalty. The first box squeaked. Everyone clapped, thankfully at the clown. Molly winked, and their duffel began swallowing joy.