Run: 2026-09-23-01M36R13T40GF6J34E88YN9DZH

Molly and Bill crouched behind a hedge outside the birthday hall, dressed as two unusually anxious clowns. A banner announced that the party featured ponies, cake, and strict adult supervision. Bill’s fake nose squeaked whenever he breathed, which was often, because the presents glittered in the window like a bank’s Christmas display. Molly unfolded their plan, drawn on a napkin and stained with gravy. It showed a door, a sack, and a stick figure labeled “Uncle.” Bill had packed three disguises, two crowbars, and a cupcake, claiming the cupcake was essential equipment. A nearby siren wailed; it was a kazoo. “We enter as entertainers, distract the grown-ups, then relocate every present to our getaway wagon.” “Excellent. I’ll juggle while you perform your famous impression of a responsible adult.” “Remember, no touching the cake. Last time you hid diamonds in frosting and ate the evidence.” “That was strategy. Besides, children never suspect clowns; they suspect dentists and anyone holding broccoli.” “The party’s guarded by parents, a magician, and one very alert six-year-old. Any objections?” “Only that my nose is squeaking. If security hears it, tell them the clown car is backing up.” “Smile, then; petty crime loves a cheerful entrance, indeed.”