Run: 2026-03-12-01KKHZS3CNDA61NPGX1FKXDB38

Molly, you’re out of your tiny criminal mind. A children’s party? We’re stealing Barbie Dreamhouses and half-eaten slices of princess cake? Oh, quit whining, Bill. They’ve got a mountain of presents under that bouncy castle. We hit it during musical chairs, total chaos, nobody notices two adults in hoodies. Two adults in hoodies at a six-year-old’s Frozen-themed bash. Brilliant. We’ll look like the before pictures in a stranger-danger pamphlet. We wear the character costumes from the supply closet. You’re Olaf. I’m Elsa. Nobody questions Elsa. I’m not wearing the carrot nose, Molly. My dignity has limits. Your dignity lost its passport the day we stole a forklift for that cupcake truck. Put on the damn carrot. Look, we wait till “Let It Go” starts, everyone’s screaming the lyrics, we nab the gift table, stuff the sacks, and waddle out like disappointed snowmen. What if the birthday girl wants her Elsa to sign her cast? Then I sign it “Let It Go, kid” and sprint. Simple. You in or not? Fine. But if I get recognized by some toddler, I’m throwing you under the bouncy castle and fleeing the country. That’s the spirit. Now help me practice my concerned-parent face. “Oh no, where’s little Timmy’s new bike?” See? Oscar-worthy.