Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ40E176WQBAGX1SCMH5Y3C

Molly lowered the binoculars, her lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s worse than we thought.” Bill squinted through the hedge. “I see a bouncy castle. And a clown. Is that a… fire-breathing unicorn?” “Focus,” Molly hissed. “The gift table. Fortified by a ring of juice boxes and a very angry-looking mother with a clipboard.” “The clipboard is the real threat,” Bill said, nodding gravely. “Our window is the candy-floss distraction. The magician’s act usually starts at 3:15. We have eight minutes.” “Eight minutes?” Bill’s voice cracked. “To lift forty gifts, navigate the cupcake obstacle course, and avoid the stampede of tiny sugar fiends?” “We’re not taking all of them. Just the ones with the biggest bows. And we need the cake. The cake is the primary objective.” “That’s a three-tier, raspberry-filled, unicorn-shaped monstrosity. The kid’s name is written in gold icing. Bradley. We’re stealing Bradley’s cake, Molly. That’s low.” “It’s a heist, Bill. There is no high or low. There is only the score.” “I feel like there should be a line. Like, we don’t swipe the breast milk from the cooler. Or the epilepsy medication. And, by extension, the themed birthday cake of a five-year-old.” “We’re not taking the whole cake. We’re taking the unicorn horn. It’s a solid five-pound, buttercream-and-fondant sculpture. Auction value is three hundred, easy.” Bill sighed. “Fine. The horn. But I’m not wrestling a toddler for a loot bag.” “You’re on piñata distraction.” “The piñata is a Darth Vader head. I have to hit it with a stick?” “You have to miss. Repeatedly. Make it look pathetic. The kids will laugh. The parents will film you. And I will move in.” “This is the worst day of my life,” Bill muttered. “What’s our exit?” “The side gate, past the weeping willow. I’ve disabled the motion-activated sprinklers.” “And the dog?” “The dog is a poodle. I have kibble. Stop worrying. Start acting. The clown is lighting the sparklers on the cake.” Bill took a deep breath. “Hold on. The magician is pulling a rabbit out of a hat. That’s our distraction. Everyone is watching.” Molly smiled. “Good eye. Go. Now.” They moved. Bill tripped over a garden gnome. Molly caught him. “The horn,” she whispered. “We get the horn.” “And a goodie bag with a yo-yo I can’t break,” Bill whispered back. “Just so I feel like I got something out of this.” They crept through the hedge. The party was in full, chaotic swing. A child in a superhero costume ran past. Another was crying because the clown’s balloon sword wouldn’t stay inflated. It was perfect.