Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8928SJ6EPWE6TJ5T4EQ9C

The park smelled like cotton candy and fading hope, Bill’s boot squelching on a lollipop hand print. Molly adjusted her sunhat, which she claimed was a “heist fashion statement” (it was a bucket hat with a pen tucked in). “Presents are in the red tent,” she said, nodding at the one strung with “Happy Birthday Lila” streamers. Bill’s eyes glued to a blue balloon shaped like a truck. “What if the balloons *grow*? Like, poof, turn into police?” She bit her lip. “Bill, last time you thought rubber bands were escape ropes. This tent’s *not* a deathtrap. It’s a *tent*.” He pouted. “But the cake—” “Is a decoy,” she said, pointing. “Lila’s dad works at a bakery; the real loot’s in the presents. Stuffed animals, games, maybe a gift card. We grab, dump a piñata full of glitter on their chaos, and dip.” He perked up. “Glitter in the ice cream?” “Bill.” “Kidding! Mostly.” The piñata whacked—*thwack*—and a kid wailed. Molly checked her watch: 3:14 p.m., perfect, when the parents got distracted by a “snack station.” “Move in during the song. Tear the tent if you have to—*gently*.” He saluted. “Yes, Captain Hat.” She grabbed his arm. “And leave the dinosaur balloon. It’s… sentimental.” He grinned. “Sentimental, huh?” “Shut up and grab the presents.” They inched toward the tent as ‘Happy Birthday’ blared, the world a blur of sticky hands and bad taste.