Run: 2026-09-23-01M36NZ43RZ3KN1VTPYQHAV1DM

Molly spread a crayon-drawn floor plan across the diner table, weighting its corners with unpaid muffins and a bent spoon. “We enter during musical chairs. When everyone spins, we’ll become part of the furniture. Nobody suspects upholstery, Bill—or the clowns.” Bill examined the map upside down; this improved accuracy because the party venue was apparently beneath them, according to Molly. “One exhausted clown, two parents, and a toddler who interrogates everyone about balloons with an official-looking badge and keeps notes.” Molly circled the gift table, then drew a tiny escape route through the bounce house and a moat of juice. “Excellent. We’ll disguise ourselves as magicians, vanish with every present, then reappear wherever the snacks are and claim applause twice, politely.” Bill practiced a stealthy tiptoe, immediately squeaking across the linoleum like a mouse trapped inside a trumpet during a solo. “Perhaps we should bring a decoy gift. What gift? A very convincing apology, wrapped in ribbon, with a handwritten note.” Outside, children shrieked happily; inside, Molly and Bill reconsidered everything, especially the toddler’s badge and their suspiciously squeaky shoes again. “Abort? We’ll steal the cake instead. It’s smaller, less guarded, and nobody labels it ‘Grandma’ anymore, unless she returns early.”