Run: 2026-09-03-01M1M0H79PSZ08ER4HVW37KKRP

Molly adjusted her fake clown nose and whispered. "We go in as prize gnomes, Bill, because no parent questions a gnome wearing a stethoscope. You lift the presents, I herd the children toward the pinata, and if anyone says cake, you freeze like a gift bag full of suspicious glitter. Then we melt into the snack table and eat like polite raccoons while counting coins quick and quiet." Bill unfolded the napkin map, then tapped the cake. "What if the dad has a laser pointer? I have never negotiated with a laser pointer. Also, I am not wearing the gnome hat, because it smells like regret and cinnamon. We take every present under the tree, including the ugly knitted scarf, because sentimental items sell to confused grandmothers at garage sales for excellent profit and zero guilt tonight." Balloons squeak softly. "Good. The pinata is our smoke screen, not a weapon. You zip the presents into the stroller, I zip the pinata into the stroller, and if a toddler points at us, we offer lollipops. If no lollipops remain, we confess to being very disappointed mascots. Then we vanish through the window after the birthday song ends and no fingerprints there."