Run: 2026-03-09-01KKABYBC7VT0HGC77P1841YH0

Molly spread a crayon-sketched floor plan across the dashboard of their idling van, tapping the kitchen, the cake table, and a suspiciously petting zoo. Bill adjusted his turtleneck and stared at the suburban house blazing with balloons. Inside, tiny guests ricocheted past windows like deranged confetti. A clown at the gate folded balloon swords with the grave concentration of a battlefield surgeon. The air smelled of frosting, juice boxes, and poor decisions. Molly checked her stopwatch; Bill checked whether remorse came in waves. It didn't, but indigestion did. Somewhere a child shrieked with delight, which both thieves misheard as opportunity. "Bill, this is not burglary; it's aggressive gift redistribution tonight." "Molly, we're robbing a clown guarded by six sugared-up toddlers." "Precisely, said Molly. No adult expects professionalism near a piñata." "And the presents? whispered Bill. We take everything with ribbons?" "Everything, except the educational puzzles; we're thieves, not monsters, Bill." "What about the magician? He looks shifty, and employed professionally." "We neutralize him with applause, Molly said. Performers crave validation." "Then we vanish? asked Bill. Smoke bomb? Trampoline? Tasteful moonwalk?" "Vanish through the bouncy castle, Molly said. No footprints, dignity." "Fine, Bill sighed. If we're caught, I'm pretending to juggle."