Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HG0PBSB0YSJMNRF2X33KV

Molly and Bill crouched behind a hedge outside the birthday pavilion, where balloons bobbed like suspiciously cheerful informants above a mountain of wrapped presents. “Bill, your disguise looks like a tax auditor dressed by a clown.” “I’m the magician. Where’s your costume?” “I’m the rabbit, obviously. Mind the ears.” Bill checked their blueprint, which was a napkin covered in frosting and arrows. Inside, twenty children screamed with the coordinated enthusiasm of malfunctioning sirens nearby. “We enter during the cake song. Nobody notices anything then.” “They’ll notice you carrying forty presents.” “Not if you saw me in half first.” Their entrance depended on a smoke bomb, a collapsible wagon, and Bill’s ability to produce a dove. Unfortunately, the dove had eaten the smoke bomb already. “Is that bird ticking?” “That’s its heartbeat.” “Heartbeats don’t have countdowns, Bill.” “This one is exceptionally dramatic. We should improvise.” “Your improvisations usually involve ambulances, plural.” Before Bill could answer, the pavilion doors burst open. A tiny girl in a tiara marched out, commandeering their wagon with a wand and authority. “Bill, she’s looking at us.” “Smile. Children can smell fear.” “She’s holding our wagon.” “Then offer balloon animals.” “You don’t know how.” “We’re her entertainment.”