Run: 2026-03-09-01KKAC9AW3K4Y5VSVV5Q1BZBWQ

Molly flattened the crayon-colored invitation on the pub table and tapped the cartoon clown with a gloved finger. "Three o'clock. Cake at four. Present mountain by the window. We stroll in as hired entertainment, smile at the toddlers, and vanish with the loot before anyone notices Uncle Gary is a ventriloquist dummy." Bill adjusted his fake bow tie, looking wounded. "I said I can do magic." "You made a sausage disappear," Molly said. "Into your own sleeve." "It was misdirection." "It was lunch." Around them, the pub smelled of raincoats and pickled eggs; outside, balloons bobbed in the wind like nervous informants. Bill leaned closer. "What about the dog? Every children's party has a dog, and every dog hates me on principle." "Wear the rabbit costume," Molly said. "Dogs respect commitment." "And if a child asks me to hop?" "Hop with dignity." He sighed. "You're enjoying this." "Bill, we're stealing presents from people too young to write thank-you notes. Of course I'm enjoying the logistics." Bill brightened. "Dibs on anything remote-controlled." Molly folded the invitation and stood. "Fine. But if there's a recorder, it's yours." He shuddered. "Even criminals have rights." The dartboard's paper pirate seemed to salute their shared idiocy.