Run: 2026-03-09-01KKAC177SB9867ZRAERKP2NMX

Molly crouched behind the hedge outside Number Nine, studying balloons bobbing like idiot sentries over the garden gate. Bill unfolded a crayon-colored map stolen from the birthday boy's lunchbox and squinted at it as if expecting lasers. From inside came shrieks, party music, and the unmistakable thump of a hired magician failing heroically. “We go in as parents,” Molly whispered. “Confident, underdressed, mildly disappointed.” “I can do disappointed,” Bill said. “My face does it naturally.” “The presents are stacked by the cake table. We lift them during pass-the-parcel confusion.” “What about the clown?” “Bribe him with dignity. He clearly misses it.” Bill peered over the hedge. “One pony, two grandmothers, and a man in a pirate hat guarding the jelly.” “That’s the father,” said Molly. “Every suburban fortress has one.” “If he challenges us?” “You say you’re from entertainment.” “In this jacket?” “Especially in that jacket.” A child’s voice yelled for more glitter. Bill shuddered. Molly tightened her gloves. “Remember,” she said, “smile warmly, move quickly, and never make eye contact with anything sticky.” Bill nodded. “If we survive, can we steal cake too?” Molly grinned. “Bill, we’re professionals, not savages.” Then they straightened, dusted off their knees, and marched toward chaos smiling.