Run: 2026-03-09-01KKAC4CZGJ2A3VC83471SWWNT

“Bill, this is our classiest job yet,” Molly whispered. “Silk masks, soft shoes, and a tactical knowledge of balloon animals.” “Children’s parties are chaos with frosting,” Bill said. “We slip in during the magician, fill the sacks, and vanish before the parents finish saying, ‘Who wants juice?’” “Good. I refuse to wrestle a clown again.” “That clown started it.” “You stole his unicycle.” “I borrowed his getaway vehicle. Focus. Presents by the cake table, yes?” “Under the giant banner that says HAPPY SEVENTH, which is helpful, because subtlety is dead.” “Any obstacles?” “Three mothers with hawk eyes, one grandfather who was allegedly in the navy, and a terrier in a bow tie.” “I can handle the navy. The dog worries me.” “The dog’s name is Princess Sprinkles.” “That worries me more.” “We enter as entertainers.” “Can you juggle?” “No, but I can look disappointed in people, and that passes for authority.” “I’ve got a puppet.” “Bill, your puppet is terrifying.” “Exactly. Children stare, adults apologize, and no one watches the presents.” “What about the birthday child?” “Bribed with an extra slice of cake.” “Efficient.” “When do we move?” “After the piñata.” “Why after?” “Because during the piñata, Bill, everyone is already armed.”