Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ91CZWXJMXJNRTMMJPM9EN

Molly leaned over the table, her eyes narrowing at the blueprint of the party barn. “The presents are stored in the hayloft. Guarded by a twinkle-lighted mannequin wearing a unicorn head.” Bill adjusted his sunglasses, which were way too big for his face. “So we just, what? Scale the wall of balloons, dodge the cake shooter, and outwit the balloon artist who’s definitely been using performance-enhancing glue?” “We *could*,” Molly said, “or we could use the element of surprise. You’re the one who suggested dressing as clowns.” “I said *juggling* clowns! Not *disguised* clowns! There’s a difference!” “Sure there is. And I’m difference.” She spun a switchblade into her palm. “We’ll wear party worker badges. You’ll man the ‘balloon toss’ booth. I’ll sabotage the motion sensors with a distraction.” “What’s the distraction?” “The glitter cannon.” She pointed to the DJ’s booth. “It goes off every time the birthday kid yells ‘Surprise!’ You’ll be ‘surprised’ into the hayloft. Classic.” Bill winced. “What if the kid yells ‘Surprise!’ *before* we’re ready? We’ll be showered in glitter, which is basically spiritual ecstasy for a five-year-old but a nightmare for me. I can’t breathe in that stuff.” “Then don’t breathe. Literally. You’ll be wearing a gas mask. Duh.” “A gas mask! At a children’s party! You want me to blend in, not start a riot!” Molly tossed him a whoopee cushion. “It’s a *non-lethal* prank gas. Just makes you sparkle. Now, practice your alibi: ‘I’m not a clown, I’m a clown *scientist*.’” “Clown scientist? That’s not a job.” “It is now. And if anyone asks, we both have a thing for ‘parties.’” She grinned. “Face it, Bill. This is the easiest heist since we liberally ‘adjusted’ the Robin Hood look-a-like contest.” Bill stared at the glitter cannon. “What if the unicorn mannequin comes to life? I’ve seen those things. They’re haunted by consumerism.” “Then you’ll haunten’t it with *fear*.” She patted his shoulder. “Ready?” “Ready to regret every life choice that led me here?” “Same. Now, let’s go. The balloon artist’s already tweeting about us.” “Great. My nemesis is 250 characters and a sparkler away.”