Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9Q3DENXHAQQ4T9V2DNMA7

The alley behind the community center smelled like frosting and helium. Molly and Bill crouched behind an overflowing bin of deflated balloons, poring over a hand-drawn diagram on the dull side of wrapping paper. Someone had practiced their alphabet with jelly; the sticky A's and B's clung to Molly's elbow every time she pointed. A glittery tiara had become their paperweight. A cupcake, previously sat upon by Bill, trembled on a railing like a crime-scene witness. From inside, muffled squeals rose and fell with the bounce house, and the sound of a kazoo orchestra made the streetlights seem uncertain. Molly twanged a party blower like a measuring tape. Bill wore a conical hat the way a condemned statue wears a pigeon defiantly. "All right, Bill, mission parameters: liberate the gifts, respect the cake, avoid clowns." "Avoid clowns? That's our entire childhood coping mechanism walking in big shoes." "Clowns smell fear and unpaid invoices; we bring neither, just charm and ribbon." "And a wagon." "A wagon is a metaphor that also carries thirty-seven wrapped metaphors." "I practiced my innocent face; it looks like I swallowed a doorknob." "Perfect, children respect architecture; you'll pass as a sculpture of poor choices." "What about the dragon at the door, the mother with the guest list?" "We arrive as late replacement magicians; your hat already screams prestigious rabbit landlord." "I cannot produce a rabbit; I can produce a panic and a kazoo." "The trick is misdirection; no one tracks parcels when confetti follows union guidelines." "Do confetti have a union? Are we crossing picket lines of sparkles?" "We honor them by leaving a tip jar and excellent exit choreography." "How do we start without starting a fire or a birthday existential crisis?" "We knock, we bow, we promise wonders, we produce an inflatable bewilderment." "Then I toot the kazoo in A minor and everyone ages three years." "Meanwhile, you redirect attention to the cake with a heartfelt frosting soliloquy." "I have strong opinions about buttercream; I can filibuster until naptime." "Excellent; I shall wheel the wagon past the applause like a shy moon." "What if a toddler latches onto the axle like an adorable barnacle?" "We adopt them briefly, return them promptly, and earn goodwill and stickers." "What about the piñata; it's shaped like an ethical dilemma with glitter." "If it bursts, candy covers our tracks; if it doesn't, we do." "I can juggle two gifts and a conscience, but not three." "Two is plenty; the conscience is recyclable and the wagon is hungry." "If someone asks our names, do we say Mister and Missus Surprise?" "We say Professional Helpers; it sounds generous and smells faintly of receipt." "You always smell of receipt; it's your cologne, Eau de Alibi." "Focus, maestro; timing is everything, like when to inhale around balloons." "I once dated a balloon; it ended with a pop and therapy." "May our relationships today be strictly transactional and filled with bows." "Then onward, partner; let us dignify chaos with manners and wheel bearings."