Run: 2026-07-09-01KX41KZMB8NSHTQS6C7R454WC

Molly spread the crayon map across the van’s dashboard, pinning its corners with stolen cupcakes. Outside, balloons bobbed above the community hall like brightly colored informants. A magician unloaded a suspiciously squeaky trunk while parents carried towers of gifts through the main entrance. “Twenty presents, two exits, one terrifying clown,” Molly said. Bill adjusted his paper crown. “I fear children more than clowns, honestly.” Their disguises were flawless, provided nobody examined them, spoke to them, or noticed Bill’s badge reading PRINCESS AMELIA, AGE SIX. Molly wore a glittery cape and carried a clipboard covered in unicorn stickers. She had labeled it OFFICIAL BIRTHDAY INSPECTIONS. The plan was simple: enter through the kitchen, crawl beneath the buffet table, replace the present pile with identical empty boxes, then escape inside the magician’s trunk. Unfortunately, the magician had already climbed inside it, apparently for professional reasons. Molly drew a new route in purple crayon, avoiding the face-painting station. Bill practiced looking youthful by crossing his eyes and demanding juice. At precisely three, the doors opened. Twenty children stampeded toward the cake, generating enough noise to loosen screws. Molly and Bill slipped inside, confidently carrying a sack marked DEFINITELY NOT PRESENTS, while the clown watched them with profound, painted suspicion.