Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPVGDHANGTXBZBH1K01ARZ

The rainbow-bright piñata swayed ominously in the breeze like a taunting, papier-mâché sentinel. Molly adjusted her oversized clown bowtie—stolen from a sad-faced mime outside a subway station—and squinted at the backyard fortress of sugar and chaos. "This is either the easiest score of our careers or the reason we end up on a milk carton," she muttered. Bill, currently wrestling with a fake mustache that refused to adhere to his upper lip, glanced up from his clipboard. "Statistically, children’s parties have a 78% lower security presence than banks. Also, free cake." "Your stats are as reliable as your disguises," Molly said, plucking a stray glitter bomb from his hair. "You look like a rejected Muppet." "Thank you." Bill adjusted his name tag—*Mr. Wiggles, Professional Balloon Artist*—and cleared his throat. "Phase one: I distract the parents with my ‘award-winning’ balloon animals. Phase two: you swap the presents with the decoy boxes we filled with—" "—expired coupons and a single sock," Molly finished. "Genius. What if a kid opens one early?" Bill grinned. "Then they’ll learn the harsh truth about capitalism before they lose their first tooth." A shriek erupted as a toddler face-planted into a cupcake. Molly sighed. "We’re really doing this, aren’t we?" Bill handed her a party hat. "For the greater good." It read *Happy Birthday, Maybe*.