Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPDKY4B43CR8P4VVR0P2A7

Molly adjusted her oversized clown wig and glared at Bill. “You’re telling me the *best* time to hit the piñata stash is *during* the cake?” Bill shoved a handful of balloons into his jumpsuit. “Kid’s blowing out candles, parents are distracted by sugar crashes—it’s *perfect*. We waltz in, grab the loot, and vanish before the first tantrum.” “And if some five-year-old recognizes us from the *last* birthday we hit?” “Then we improvise.” Bill grinned, pulling out a kazoo. “I’ll play ‘Happy Birthday’ off-key. You start crying about gluten. Works every time.” Molly sighed. “You realize the *real* score isn’t the My Little Ponies, right? It’s the *gift cards* in the parents’ purses.” Bill gasped, clutching his chest. “Molly. We *agreed*. No picking pockets at a *bounce house*. That’s just *rude*.” “Fine. But if I see a mom drop her wallet in the ball pit, it’s *fair game*.” “Deal.” Bill adjusted his fake mustache. “Now, remember—if anyone asks, we’re ‘Uncle Bob and Aunt Linda.’” “Why those names?” “Because no one *ever* remembers Uncle Bob.” Bill tossed her a party hat. “Let’s go ruin childhoods.”