Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ8MXPSFZFQ23NYSJXX77CV

Molly crouched behind a towering piñata shaped like a frowning dragon, adjusting her glow-in-the-dark unicorn onesie. “Bill, you’re supposed to be a balloon artist, not a tornado,” she hissed, as he lugged a two-by-four wrapped in confetti paper past the cake table. Bill tugged his pirate hat over his ears, eyeing a cluster of wide-eyed toddlers. “Ain’t nothin’ funny about this gig. Kids are like tiny, snot-nosed bloodhounds.” He gestured to his belt, where a rubber sword jostled against a pocket of lockpicks. “They’re not gonna suspect a thing. We’re *characters*. You’re ‘Captain Bluutins,’ I’m ‘Rainbow McGiggles.’ Now repeat after me: *‘Want to see a magic balloon snake?’*” Bill mumbled, “‘Want to see a magical balloon syllable?’” Molly facepalmed. “Drop the ‘syllable’—they’re not here for *Shakespeare*. The gifts are in the green tins under the bounce house. I’ve got a gadget that opens child-proof lids in seconds.” “Seconds? What if someone sees us? Or worse—what if they *like* us?” “They won’t. You’ll be too busy dodging glitter bombs.” She tapped her earpiece, its antenna buzzing like a hornet. “The decorator’s hiding the Sicherheit alarms in those tins. We take the toys, disable the sensors, split before the piñata’s empty.” Bill peered at a giggling kid riding a plastic horse. “What if they throw confetti *on* us? I hear it’s sticky.” “It’s *sparkly* sticky. Just act normal.” “Normal? I’m a pirate with a chainsaw grin. How’s that normal?” “Not helping. Just… pivot to juggling. Distract them with your ‘whooshing’ noises.” Bill coughed up a lopsided balloon squid. “I’ve also got a balloon alligator. It hisses.” Molly’s eye twitched. “Fantastic. If we get caught, tell them the toy sharks are *borrowed*. Now move—guest of honor just saw us. She’s got a party favor and a suspicious mind.” As Bill waddled toward the bounce house, Molly muttered, “Next heist, we hit a *teen* party. Less glitter, more laxatives.”