Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ87Z9J2MRAEE5WRYHBG665

Molly adjusted her neon unicorn onesie, glaring at Bill, who wore a inflatable T-Rex costume that whistled when he moved. "You’re supposed to be a ‘stealthy menace,’ not a carnival ride," she said, peering through the living room window at the clown-balloon disaster outside. "Blame the vest," Bill wheezed, tugging at the LED-lit foam. "It came with *instructions* for ‘noisemaking.’” "The plan is simple," Molly hissed, sketching a flowchart on a napkin labeled *Operation Sack ’Em*. "We slip in, swap the Piñata for a duffel bag, and vanish before the cake hits the table." Bill salivated. "And the *spoils*? You think they’ll have glow-in-the-dark rings? My nephews *live* for those." "Focus," Molly snapped, vaulting over the fence like a parkour-obsessed elf. "We’re not robbing a bank, Bill. The biggest threat here is a toddler with a juice box and a vendetta." A shriek erupted from the yard. "That’s the birthday *song*!" Bill hissed. "They’re doing *two* verses!" Molly froze. "In *French*." "In *honor* of the cake,” Bill added, as the melody spiraled into chaos. "It’s a *fusion* theme. French patisserie… and dinosaurs." Molly facepalmed. "We’re a week late on our rent. I’m infiltrating a toddler’s *cultural exchange*." "Now, now," Bill said, patting his rattle-filled pockets. "Worry is a *prickly* party guest. Let’s dance." Somewhere, a trombone honked. Molly groaned. "Just try not to eat any confetti." "Too late," Bill said, blinking glitter from his whisk-covered face. "But I’ll take it."