Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0NK97E6XMC174VW22AH8F2

Molly spread the crayon-drawn floor plan across the dashboard, weighting one corner with a half-eaten doughnut and the other with Bill’s ridiculous binoculars. Across the street, balloons bobbed over the community hall like festive surveillance drones. Every few seconds a child shrieked with the raw authority of a tiny police siren, and Bill flinched. “Molly, children are unpredictable.” “Relax. Gifts are predictable.” “What about clowns?” “We steal around the clown.” “That’s never worked before.” Bill adjusted his fake mustache, which had been advertised as executive father but looked more like a startled caterpillar escaping his nose. Molly checked the invitation she had fished from a recycling bin: Princess Dragon Disco, gifts on the left, cake on the right, parents distracted by glitter in the middle. Their disguises were perfect, assuming anyone believed a pair of childless adults would arrive carrying a wrapped box labeled FOR NORMAL BIRTHDAY PURPOSES. Inside the box were empty sacks, tape, and one emergency juice box. Bill practiced an innocent wave and accidentally saluted a passing grandmother with criminal enthusiasm. Molly smiled. The plan was simple: enter during musical chairs, blend with the losing parents, and depart before anyone noticed the gift table had become strangely philosophical.