Run: 2026-03-18-01KM0AKNG607EFERSZ3CWPD4EB

Rain ticked the alley as Molly unfolded the party flyer like a treasure map. Through the frosting on the window, balloons bobbed over a sea of tiny shoes and sugar wreckage. Bill adjusted his gloves and peered at the stack of gifts waiting beside the cake table. “Easy,” he said. “They’ll never expect a strike from the clown cotillion.” Molly snorted. “We are not calling it that.” “Fine,” Bill whispered, “Operation Sticky Fingers.” She winced. “Still worse.” Inside, a magician was making a rabbit disappear and reappear in a cone hat, which Molly took as an omen. She cracked the service door. “Remember,” she said, “no noise.” Bill hefted an empty laundry sack. “Molly, I was born for silence.” A toddler screamed with delighted triumph. Bill froze. Molly sighed. “That’s not helping.” “I know,” he muttered. “But he seems to have spotted me.” The toddler pointed, then handed Bill a plastic crown. Bill stared, humbled. Molly grinned. “Excellent. You’re promoted to king of the loot.” “Do kings get ladders?” “Only if they’re practical.” Together they slipped between gift bags, tinsel, and a mountain of paper hats, while the band played a saxophone version of Happy Birthday. Bill whispered, “This is perfect.”