Run: 2026-06-24-01KVX3C2BFWX9Y36PB3JNJJN64

"Bill, put down the lockpicks. We’re walking through the front door." "Molly, it’s a seven-year-old’s birthday party, not a casino." "Exactly. Security is a tired mom and a bounce house. We just need a cover." "What cover? We’re forty and wearing black turtlenecks in July." "We’re caterers, Bill. Grab the folding tables." "We don't have any food." "Then we're the entertainment." "You’re gonna put on a clown nose?" "Worse. I'm the balloon artist. You're my silent assistant." "You don't know how to make balloon animals." "I watched a twelve-minute tutorial in the van. I can make a snake." "A snake. At a kid's party. What happens when they ask for a poodle?" "I make a thick snake and call it a dehydrated poodle. Listen, while they're distracted by my terrifying balloon creations, you empty the gift table into the sack." "The gift table next to the cake?" "Yes." "The cake guarded by a piñata?" "Bill, it's paper mache. If it gets aggressive, you have a crowbar." "I'm not fighting a donkey for a Hungry Hungry Hippos game." "Just grab the Lego sets, Bill. We're retiring to Aruba." He sighed, adjusting his turtleneck.