Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKA31N61825AP5BHSA6RF87

Molly crouched behind the inflatable castle, examining a blueprint that wobbled with stains. Bill balanced a bag on his head like a ceremonial crown, the tassels flicking his ear each time someone yelled “Pinata!” They were supposed to be invisible. Instead, they were the only adults wearing capes without children attached. Molly ticked off contingencies on her fingers: rain, cake collapse, rogue magician. Bill bobbed to the party music like a buoy misplaced on a frosting sea. "Bill, it’s a cake, not a map; frosting misleads scouts." "Molly, relax; clowns love distractions, and balloons cover tactical exits." Molly sighed and adjusted their schedule, which was written on a napkin and smelled of oranges. The presents sat in a pyramid beside a cardboard castle, guarded by a paper dragon with googly eyes and a toddler who clearly understood tyranny. Bill produced a rubber chicken grappling hook; it squeaked, betraying them to three goldfish and a grandmother. The plan devolved into interpretive mime: Molly pointed, Bill nodded, the rubber chicken squeaked again. A confetti cannon fired somewhere, absolving all crimes with color. When the music surged, they surged too, sweeping the pyramid into a wagon shaped like a duck, and quacked innocently.