Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKAGBAG0SNR5W8KBR3FG11A

Molly and Bill crouched behind a pyramid of party favors in the community center corridor, smelling like sugar and ambition. Their blueprint was a napkin scrawled with frosting, arrows wobbling where Molly had taste tested the legend key. A pile of glittery paper crowns served as their compass. Bill, in a blazer speckled with confetti, tapped the ticking piñata watch on his wrist and tried to look professional about it. From inside, a chorus of tiny voices rehearsed the birthday chant with the fury of a storm. They rehearsed their getaway faces in a compact mirror: polite, apologetic, then ravishingly invisible. Molly allocated decoy snacks, appointing cupcakes to the risky posts and cookies to distract from the presents. Bill practiced lifting a present with pinkie etiquette, as if courting a duchess who wore glitter glue. "Masks or party hats?" said Molly. "Hats. Less suspicious, more festive." said Bill. "And shoes?" said Molly. "Squeaky. We blame balloons." said Bill. "Contingency?" said Molly. "Cake camouflage. Always." said Bill. "Right." said Molly. A balloon dog drifted by like a patrol fish, nose bobbing judgment. Bill saluted it. From the doorway, the cake released a buttercream gleam, the kind that topples kingdoms and resolutions.