Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQC7PW8CGJWJEJ0AS9Q3RW

The rainbow-balloon archway sagged under the weight of its own optimism as Molly adjusted her oversized clown bowtie in the reflection of a minivan window. Beside her, Bill fidgeted with a party hat that kept slipping over his eyes, the elastic digging into his stubble like a tiny, judgmental noose. “You realize,” Molly muttered, “we’re about to commit felony grand theft from a room full of sugar-crazed six-year-olds.” Bill adjusted the hat again. “Technically, it’s petty theft. And they’re *distracted* six-year-olds. That’s our window.” A shriek of laughter erupted from the bounce house as a child launched themselves into the air like a human confetti cannon. Molly watched the trajectory with professional detachment. “Distracted is one word for it. ‘Legally unaccountable’ is another.” Bill pulled a walkie-talkie from his fanny pack—stolen from a gym in ’09, still smelling faintly of regret—and cracked his knuckles. “Phase one: blend in. You’re the face painter. I’m the guy who keeps ‘accidentally’ eating the cake samples.” Molly eyed the glitter glue in her pocket. “If I have to turn one more kid into a sparkly raccoon to sell this, I’m taking a cut of the Lego haul.” Bill grinned. “Deal. But if we get caught, you’re the one who ‘misunderstood the dress code.’”