Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCRBNAZANZ0RRPYE8QVGN71

Molly spread the blueprints across the hood of the van, pinning the corners down with two half-eaten churros. "Bounce house here," she said, tapping the paper. "Piñata here. Presents stacked on the folding table, northwest corner, guarded by an aunt." "How many aunts?" "Four, minimum. Possibly a grandmother." Bill went pale beneath his fake mustache. "Molly, I didn't sign up for grandmothers." "You signed up for eleven hundred dollars of unopened Lego." "I signed up for a *soft* target. This is a fortified position with cake." "Which is why you're going in as the clown." He stared at her. "Absolutely not. I have a documented fear of my own reflection in greasepaint." "You have a documented fear of everything, Bill, and yet here you are, holding a crowbar shaped like a balloon animal." She rolled the blueprints. "You distract. Forty-five seconds of juggling, minimum. I take the table." "And if a child asks me to make a giraffe?" "Make a giraffe." "I can only make snakes." "Then make a *long* giraffe," Molly hissed, "and commit to it." Bill exhaled slowly, adjusting his enormous shoes. Somewhere across the street, a bounce house inflated like a great pink lung, and the screaming began.