Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2H46Y9QP8M5STAQ51QHCYD

Molly squinted at the crayon-drawn map on the diner napkin. “So the bouncy castle is the diversion?” Bill nodded, tapping a juice box. “Exactly. I’ll inflate it to catastrophic proportions. The ensuing chaos buries the parents in a tidal wave of screaming, sugared-up toddlers.” “And I waltz through the gift table disguised as the entertainment.” Molly produced a rainbow wig and a kazoo from her satchel. Bill grimaced. “A clown? That’s your masterstroke? Kids hate clowns.” “Kids hate *sad* clowns. I’m a *magic* clown. I pull a live rabbit out of a hat and while they’re mobbing the bunny, I fill the hatchback with Lego and dollhouses.” “The rabbit’s not live, is it?” “It’s a wind-up toy. It just looks real if I scream convincingly.” Bill drummed his fingers. “Fine. But we need a flawless exit. The ice cream truck?” “Melts under pressure. I stole a school bus. We’ll paint ‘Field Trip to Disappointment’ on the side and nobody will follow.” “That’s bleak, even for us.” “Bleak is my brand.” She pocketed the napkin. “Cry on my signal, and don’t skimp on the tears.” “I’ll be weeping before the first gift bag’s gone,” Bill said, adjusting his tiny party hat with grim determination.