Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0PEVFWRJQDNVPNSZVQ5EBG

Molly crouched behind the hedge, binoculars trained on the church hall where balloons bobbed like suspiciously cheerful sentries. Bill lay beside her in a borrowed clown suit, sweating glitter and regret. Inside, twenty sugar-charged children circled a mountain of wrapped presents. The cake was taller than most of them and decorated with a pirate ship, which Molly considered insulting to professional criminals. “Plan?” Bill whispered. “Enter, distract, exit,” Molly said. “With presents?” “Obviously.” Their getaway wagon waited in the alley, painted with the words FUNTIME PUPPET MINISTRY because Bill had misunderstood “low profile.” Molly adjusted her party hat and checked the inventory: smoke pellets, gift sacks, two juice boxes, and a small plastic kazoo for emergencies. At precisely two o’clock, the magician arrived, tripped over his rabbit cage, and released four doves into the punch. Molly smiled. Chaos had RSVP’d. They slipped through the side door. A toddler immediately handed Bill a paper crown and declared him King Banana. Bill bowed, which earned applause and sticky fingerprints. “Focus,” Molly hissed. “I’m beloved.” Molly reached for the nearest present, but it began barking. The tag read: To Emma, Love Grandma. Air holes. Molly froze. Bill lifted another box; it meowed furiously. Outside, sirens wailed. Molly sighed. Children’s parties, she reflected, had dangerously advanced security.