Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0MWT9NT2AT3K9WNMJE93H6

Molly unfolded the crayon-drawn map of Bumblebee Birthday Palace across the dashboard of their van, weighting the corners with licorice, a rubber chicken, and Bill’s emergency tiara. Outside, balloons bobbed on the fence like cheerful sentries. Inside, according to Molly’s reconnaissance, sat forty-two wrapped presents, one magician, and a cake shaped like a suspiciously judgmental dinosaur. “Ready, Bill?” Molly whispered. “Morally? No. Logistically? Nearly,” Bill said. He wore a hired clown suit, though the shoes squeaked accusatorily every time he blinked. Molly had chosen the subtler disguise of “Aunt who brings raisins,” complete with cardigan pockets full of decoy fruit. Their plan was simple: enter during musical statues, divert attention with Bill’s balloon dachshund routine, then wheel the presents out in a stroller labeled Napping Triplets. Molly checked her watch. At exactly two, the children would be released onto the garden like sugared wolves. Timing mattered. So did dignity, though Bill had abandoned his around breakfast. “No glitter,” Molly warned. “Glitter happens,” Bill replied. They crept toward the gate. A small girl in fairy wings spotted them immediately, narrowed her eyes, and raised a plastic wand. The operation was already under new management.