Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KC8C812GDJN3646ZGYDQKG

Molly spread the blueprint across the sticky kitchen table. "Okay, so the plan is simple." Bill stared at the crudely drawn diagram. "A birthday party? You want us to rob a bunch of five-year-olds?" "Not rob. Liberate. And it's not a bunch, it's the Henderson twins. Trust fund babies. Their presents are worth more than my car." "I'm not stealing from kids, Moll. That's a new low, even for us." "It's not stealing. It's a strategic redistribution. And they're not 'kids,' they're tiny billionaires. Look, I've got the layout. Bounce house, craft table, snack corner, and the gift table right next to the cake. Easy in, easier out." "So what's our angle? We dress up as clowns? We sneak in as the entertainment?" "Better. We're the parents of Tommy." "There's no Tommy." "Exactly. We show up, we act entitled, we complain about the gluten in the cupcakes. While you're distracting the mom, I grab the gift bags and slip out the back." "And what do I do, scream about a gluten allergy?" "Yes, but make it dramatic. Cry a little. Mention your chiropractor." Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. But I'm keeping a coloring book." Molly grinned. "Deal. Now, how do you feel about balloon animals?" "I feel like I'm going to jail." "That's the spirit. Now, practice this face: 'I demand to see the manager.'"