Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2ED82FBMSTA3NCNV2XMZZ2

“I’m telling you, Bill, the bounce house is our Trojan horse.” Molly adjusted her fake horn-rimmed glasses. Bill stared at the party supply list. “We’re stealing presents from five-year-olds. There’s no dignity in a bounce house.” “Dignity doesn’t pay for my laser-cutter upgrade.” She tapped the map. “We roll in as ‘Uncle Bob’ and ‘Aunt Marge’—obnoxious relatives everyone ignores.” Bill sighed. “And my job?” “You’re the barf decoy.” “The what?” “When the bouncy castle spring leaks, pretend to be queasy. All attention on you. I grab the gift table.” “I have to simulate vomiting? In front of actual children?” “Method acting, Bill. You’ll get an award.” He rubbed his temples. “What if they smell a rat?” “We’re stealing Hello Kitty backpacks, not the Crown Jewels.” “There’s a piñata,” he muttered. “I love piñatas.” “No. Stay focused. After the cake cutting, I swap the presents with these.” She opened a bag of identical boxes filled with rocks. Bill peeked inside. “That’s duct-tape weight. They’ll know.” “By then we’re gone. Plan B: if caught, cry and say we’re from the IRS.” “Crying children, crying IRS agents—this is a nightmare.” Molly grinned. “Welcome to high-risk birthday security.”