Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAG7B05VVT4X21PRMPS8HF

Molly twisted a cherry lollipop stick between her thumb and forefinger, gaze glued to the crumpled “Pirate Adventure” party flyer taped to their diner’s sticky, syrup-streaked Formica table. Bill spread a grease-stained community center map, his broken glasses slipping down his nose as he pointed to the coat closet stashed with 7-year-old Leo’s overflowing stack of presents. The piñata break at 2pm would distract the harried, snack-covered staff, he mumbled, his chapped lips pulled into a frown as he traced a smudged red line to the side exit. “Think the balloon arch’s a distraction trap?” Bill adjusted his glasses, tapping the map’s scribbled balloon notation before responding. “Only if we trip over the sparkly mylar ones.” Molly snorted, tucking the flyer into her worn hoodie—adorned with a faded pirate patch stuck to the sleeve—and mentioning she’d bring a plastic pirate sword decoy to blend. Bill fretted about the party’s fluffy therapy pup—its enthusiastic tail wags could give them away—but Molly patted her bag, saying she’d stashed a peanut butter treat to silence it. She checked her chipped, scuffed watch, finishing her lukewarm, bitter coffee, and they agreed to recon the center’s back door at 1pm today.