Run: 2026-03-18-01KM09KZNN1P6WQC81CZEPAQ7K

“Molly, are you certain this is the right party?” Bill whispered, peering over the hedge. “Bill, there are balloons, a clown car parked outside, and twenty-seven sugar-fueled children shrieking like gulls. It is absolutely the right party.” “You make it sound festive.” “It is festive. That’s what makes it vulnerable.” Bill adjusted his black gloves. “I hate that I’m impressed.” “You’ll hate it more when you’re rich.” “What’s the plan?” “We go in as party entertainment.” “Us?” “Yes.” “I am six feet tall and look like a funeral with legs.” “Then you’re the magician’s assistant.” “I do not think that role survives scrutiny.” Molly pointed at the side gate. “No one scrutinizes a magician when he’s holding a rabbit and a microphone.” “We don’t have a rabbit.” “We have a sack.” “That is not the same thing.” “It is if you’re ambitious.” Bill sighed. “And the presents?” “We collect them while everyone is distracted by balloons, cake, and the inevitable emotional collapse of a child denied a second cupcake.” “I admire your cynicism.” “I admire your willingness to carry the sacks.” Bill looked at the house, then at the growing mountain of wrapped gifts. “If this works, I’m never questioning your ideas again.” “Mistake, Bill. That’s when I get creative.”