Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ72R5KTCW4QGSE2WKJ2CFC9

Molly adjusted her ghillie suit, made entirely of shredded party streamers. Bill stared at the blueprints. "Okay, listen," Bill whispered. "The perimeter is guarded by a six-year-old named Timothy, three inflatable bouncy castles, and a very aggressive piñata. I'm thinking we go in through the wetsuit disguise?" "Bill, we are not wearing wetsuits at a birthday party," Molly snapped, checking her lockpicks. "We go in as magicians. "Abracadabra, your presents are gone." Classic. Timeless. The parents will be too busy photographing cupcakes to notice us vanishing with a stack of LEGO sets and signed first editions." "But the noise level is going to be deafening," Bill argued. "I can't work in a sonic environment of screaming children and polka music. Amateurs. What about the snack table?" "The snack table is our cover, you absolute walnut," Molly hissed. "We pose as caterers. We wheel in the cart. We swap the presents for identical boxes of stale crackers. The kids won’t even taste the difference until next Christmastime. We load the van, bounce the castle, and leave before the cake-cutting. Simple. Elegant. Painless." "I still say we should just ask nicely," Bill mumbled. She sighed. "Get in the van, Bill now.