Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KBC15RPCN467MVZKATC4D0

Molly flattened the crumpled invitation against the minivan’s dash. “We hit at three-fifteen, right when they’re doing the piñata. Zero adult supervision.” Bill squinted through the windshield at the pastel bouncy castle. “Three-fifteen? That’s when the magician does the balloon animals. The parents watch that. It’s a crowd-pleaser.” “Which is why we go for the Gift Table. One swift yank of the tablecloth, presents slide right into the duffel, we’re gone before the first dad yells ‘Ta-da!’” She mimed the magician’s flourish. Bill chewed a carrot stick. “What about the birthday kid?” “What about him?” “He’s, like, five. He’s gonna cry.” “He’ll get new presents. Probably better ones. Have you seen the wrapping on this stuff? It’s all dinosaurs and unicorns. That’s mid-tier retail, Bill. We’re not hitting a Gucci store, we’re hitting a yard sale with frosting.” “Still feels low.” Molly grabbed his wrist. “Low is a basement full of stolen LEGO sets. Low is selling a princess castle back to the mom who bought it. We’re heroes, Bill. We’re teaching emotional resilience through material loss.” Bill sighed. “Fine. But I’m keeping the unicorn. That one’s for me.” “Deal. Now wipe that guilt off your face. We’ve got a party to crash.”