Run: 2026-03-09-01KKAC2JZJFXC944JZJGH4W50M

Molly spread the crayon-scribbled invitation across a wobbly café table as if it were blueprints for a royal mint. Balloons, a rented bouncy castle, a magician with suspicious sideburns, and thirty wrapped presents arranged beneath a banner proclaiming HAPPY SIXTH, OLIVER. Bill adjusted his cap and studied the layout with the solemnity of a man considering military history, though he was mostly distracted by a muffin the size of his head. “Cake at one, chaos by two; presents vanish by three, Bill.” He nodded gravely, brushing crumbs from the map. Outside, rain polished the street, and a clown on a cigarette break looked like a deeply regrettable prophecy. Molly tapped the drawing of the garden gate, then the sketch of the patio doors, where a parade of sugared children would stampede the moment someone shouted treasure hunt or pinata. The party, she explained, was practically robbing itself. Bill glanced toward the bakery window, where a cardboard pirate advertised birthday cupcakes and seemed to judge him personally. “Smile, wave, grab everything shiny, and fear the pony, Molly.” The plan settled between them with absurd elegance: borrowed caterer aprons, a gift trolley, and impeccable timing. If luck held, they’d leave richer by bicycles, puzzles, and one plush giraffe Bill had already emotionally adopted.