Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKAGHRY9SNWQ16SNJKQYNWB

Tonight's children's party was a toy-strewn carnival of cheerful danger. Molly checked the map on the back of a dessert napkin, which smelled faintly of lemon and rebellion. Bill adjusted his mask, which kept slipping, like a stubborn idea. They whispered in the pantry where the glitter from last year's balloon drop still lingered. The plan was simple: enter as clowns, collect the loot, exit through the kitchen window, and vanish before the cake trucks learned their names. Molly rehearsed the slogan she'd use to calm any suspicious grown-ups: 'We are here for happiness tax.' Bill grinned, then giggled loudly. Molly: Tonight the party is loud, bright, sugary, and suspiciously kind; we need a clownish cover, a recipe for mischief, and absolute nonchalance and stealth. Bill: We'll enter as balloon-throwing professionals, mingle with marshmallow fans, stall cameras with a chorus of giggles, and pretend to organize the cake line today. Molly: If we trip the lights, the party will glow with confetti; we'll glide between tables, collect presents with care, and leave through the door. Bill: Remember, we smile like hosts, not criminals; if a kid asks our names, we say we are the 'Joy Engineers' on temporary duty tonight.