Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2GCCEG4245W30PNPC8KJ1E

Molly squinted through the binoculars. “The unicorn bounce house is the key. Security’s too busy dodging sticky fingers.” Bill adjusted his fake mustache. “You want me to waltz in wearing this? I look like a depressed librarian.” “You look like a distraction,” she said. “I’ll slip the loot into the piñata bag.” “The loot? It’s a pile of Pokémon cards and a singing plushie llama. We’ll be legendarily broke.” “Don’t underestimate the secondary market for rare holographics. And that llama has a following.” He sighed. “So my job is to get tackled by a swarm of eight-year-olds?” “Precisely. Cause a scene at the cake table. Cry about the frosting. They’ll swarm you with napkins.” “I’m not crying for a unicorn cake.” “You’ll cry if we walk away empty-handed. Look, the birthday boy just dropped his own present. He’s sobbing. That’s our opening.” “That’s traumatic.” “It’s capitalism, Bill. Now go. And for heaven’s sake, straighten your mustache. You look like a caterpillar ate a sad man.” He trudged toward the party, muttering, “I’m stealing a llama for a nursery rhyme. My mother would be so proud.”