Run: 2026-03-18-01KM09J646BQ4XNJMD1WVT6NM6

Bill, whisper—are you sure the guest list says “Tiny Titans” and not “Tiny Snitches”? Molly: Relax. Kids’ parties are basically treasure chests with frosting. Bill: I wore the clown shoes. If anyone asks, I’m a professional balloon facilitator. Molly: Good. I’m the mime who forgot how to be silent. From the sidewalk, the house glowed with paper lanterns and alarming unicorn music. Bill practiced his subtle approach, which mainly involved sneezing confetti from his sleeve. Molly checked the van, already humming with a vacuum-sealer for wrapping supplies. Bill: When do we hit? The piñata comes at six, but I’ve heard their secret weapon is “chocolate coins.” Molly: Right after cake. Kids’ attention is like tap water; splash it once and everything runs. Bill: And if the magician spots us? Molly: Tell him we’re auditors for the loot today. They slipped through the open garage door, careful not to trigger the motion-sensing pony. Inside, every present sat in a neat circle like it was waiting for a parade. Bill tried to lift one box labeled “DREAM BIG!” and it immediately toppled, revealing a squeaky toy mouse wearing a tiny superhero cape. Molly grinned, logging 'squeak first' into the operation for later.