Run: 2026-09-10-01M25DD1BN7X74YAPN3D83JTDB

Molly spread a crayon-drawn map over the dashboard of a dented van. Outside, a bouncy castle wheezed while children screamed. Bill wiped powdered sugar from his binoculars. "Okay, Bill, here's the score. Timmy Wexler's seventh birthday. Forty kids, six parents, one clown, and a gift table groaning under more plastic than a landfill." Bill lowered the binoculars. "A clown?" "Sprinkles. He does balloon swords and passive-aggressive magic." Molly tapped the map. "We go in as party professionals. You're the magician. I'm the face painter. We hit the gift table during pin the tail on the donkey." Bill frowned at his bathrobe. "This is not a magician's cape. This is a bathrobe with stars drawn on in marker." "It's called method acting. Now, the piñata. We dump the candy, load the presents inside, and waddle out as a donkey." Bill rubbed his temples. "Molly, there is a bike. A purple bike with streamers. It will not fit in a donkey." "We put it on the roof." "With the pigeon?" "The pigeon can ride it. He's earned it." Molly folded the map into a paper airplane and aimed it at a passing clown. "The real money is gift cards. Kids get fifty-dollar cards now. We grab those, leave the stuffed animals, and we're eating steak by six." "What about security?" "Gary. Retired mall cop. Allergic to latex. We bring balloons and a note from his doctor." "That note is forged." "It's a get-well card. Different crime." Bill glanced toward the party. A child was licking the bouncy castle. "And if the kids see us?" "Children are tiny drunk adults. Give them sugar and they forget their own names. We'll be gone before the magician's rabbit blinks." "You brought a rabbit?" "No, I brought a hat. You'll improvise." Bill sighed and picked up a rainbow wig. "I want it noted that I opposed the dragon." "Noted. Now practice your honk. We leave in five." Outside, a parent hauled a cake shaped like a unicorn. "See? Chaos. We slip in while the unicorn cake is being admired. No one watches the gift table when there's fondant." Bill squinted at the gift table. A mountain of wrapped boxes trembled as a birthday banner flapped. "I count thirty presents, four gift bags, and one envelope taped to a blender." "The blender is for the parents. We leave it. We're not monsters." "What about the clown?" "Sprinkles is a coward. Last week he ran from a piñata because it looked at him funny." "That was you in the piñata costume." "Allegedly. Now, the exit. We go through the bouncy castle, cut a seam, and emerge by the dumpsters." Bill stared at the dragon-shaped castle. Its tail quivered with each shrieking child. "That castle is full of six-year-olds. I'd rather face a SWAT team." "A SWAT team doesn't smell like juice boxes. Put on the wig, Bill." Bill put on the wig. It smelled like juice boxes. "I really, really hate you." "You love this. Now honk, please."