Run: 2026-09-03-01M1K5JG6JH44A58GJ48BYCTZ4

Molly crouched behind the bounce house, clipboard in hand, watching sugar-fueled children swarm the backyard. Bill adjusted his oversized clown wig and sweated profusely under the afternoon sun. The present table wobbled under bright wrapping paper, guarded by a fortress of juice boxes and a suspicious mother. "This is humiliating," Bill whispered. "We steal diamonds, not juice boxes." "Focus," Molly hissed. "There's at least three hundred dollars of presents on that table, untouched." "That table is guarded by a mom with a whistle," Bill muttered. "And those kids bite." Molly grinned. "That's why we dress as entertainment. You distract them with balloon animals while I grab the loot." "What if they want Spider-Man, not a poodle?" Bill asked. "Relax, it's a preschool party, not the Louvre," Molly added. Bill tugged at his red nose, which squeaked ominously every time he breathed too hard through his anxiety. "Do I look trustworthy to children?" he whimpered. "Then you learn fast," Molly said. "Once the cake comes out, chaos erupts. We vanish with the gifts." Bill sighed, inflating a long balloon until it squeaked. "If I get hit with cake, you owe me." Molly patted his shoulder and crept toward the presents silently.