Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GQA7E0TX38R70TC4QNXT1E

Molly crouched behind a hedge of inflatable flamingos, binoculars up. Beyond it, a bouncy castle swayed like a jellyfish having second thoughts. "Target acquired," she whispered. "Clown on perimeter duty. Pony in the garage." Bill shuffled over, his mustache already peeling. He'd researched the party for three weeks from a van that smelled of cheese. "That's Gary," said Bill. "Twist him a balloon dachshund and he'll look away." "We're not bribing a clown, Bill." "Everyone has a price. His is shaped like a dog." Molly consulted the napkin floor plan. It was mostly ketchup. "Presents are on the gift table. We move during musical statues, grab the loot, and we're out before anyone unfreezes." Bill peered over the hedge. "Is the piñata technically a present?" "It's a donkey full of whoppers. It's evidence." She paused. "Fine. We take the piñata." A shriek went up, and a dozen tiny feet thundered past. Bill clutched his mustache to his lip. "There's the birthday boy," Molly hissed. "Remember the plan. You're my uncle. We blend." "Your mustache is falling off." Molly froze. "I'm not wearing a mustache." They both looked at her lip. It was a caterpillar. Nobody said anything. "Abort," said Bill.