Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ818N424XVJ7E6D84S8VV8

Molly adjusted her ski mask in the rearview mirror. “You sure this clown’s birthday gig is the one?” Bill checked the map on his phone. “Double-Dippy Dino’s Playland. Pink balloon arch, bounce castle, clown with a suspiciously deep voice. That’s the spot.” “That voice *is* suspicious,” Molly muttered. “Could be an inside man.” “They always cry when we take the piñata. Weak stomachs.” “You bring the loot bags?” Bill patted his backpack. “Three XL trash bags. One for toys, one for candy, one for emotional devastation.” “The kids won’t even know we were there.” “Oh, they’ll know. They’ll wake up tomorrow missing their talking unicorn and half a bag of gummy worms. Trauma bonds are real.” “You distract at the dunk tank. I’ll sweep the gift table.” “Why *me* at the dunk tank?” “Because last time you tried to blend in at a preschool, you taught them poker.” “That was educational!” “Still banned from Story Time at the Westside Library.” A squealing child ran past, chasing a deflating balloon shaped like a llama. Bill sighed. “I hate hurting kids.” Molly snapped on rubber gloves. “We’re not hurting them. We’re teaching them about capitalism.” “Still feels a little evil.” “It’s *efficient*. Now move. If I don’t get that remote-control taco, I’m going full Grinch.”