Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2DQRDR51835MEGSV08W2H1

Molly pressed her eye to the gap in the hedge, watching the bouncy castle inflate with a flatulent wheeze. Beside her, Bill fiddled with a purple party blower, occasionally letting its tongue unfurl in a sad little fizzle. The birthday tent was a riot of primary colors and shrieking children, a fortress of sticky fingers and sugar highs. “We go in when they do the piñata,” Molly whispered. “It’s the only window. Thirty seconds of chaos.” Bill licked his thumb, rubbed at a patch of grass stain on his black tracksuit. “And how do we carry out twelve gift bags and a tricycle without looking like off-brand Santas?” Molly pulled a folded rainbow bedsheet from her backpack. “We wear bliss. We wear sparkle. We become entertainers.” “I’m not juggling.” “You don’t have to. You just have to walk tall, wave, and look like you belong. Then we stuff the presents in the sheet, waddle to the van, and vanish.” Bill nodded slowly, then unfurled the blower. “Can I at least do the noise?” He gave it a sad, damp toot. Molly snatched it from his mouth. “No. That’s how we get caught.” She scanned the garden. A clown was juggling oranges. A unicorn piñata swung overhead, ready for its beating. Molly smiled. “Thirty seconds. That’s all we need.”