Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PMH20WA1ZNSAV4XVFQ8C9

Molly crouched behind a hedge of plastic flamingos, peering through binoculars at the bounce house. "Bill, this is genius. Nobody suspects thieves at a six-year-old's party." Bill adjusted his disguise—a clown nose and a tutu. "I told you. We blend in. Now hand me the loot bags." "You look like a crime scene wearing tulle." "It's tactical tulle. Very distracting." "Bill. You're covered in glitter." "Glitter is a forensic nightmare, Molly. It gets everywhere. It's basically DNA." "Fine. So the plan: I distract the parents with the old 'my car is being towed' routine, and you empty the present table." "Wrong. We switch. You have the face that says 'trustworthy at parties.'" "Flattery noted and rejected. Fifty-fifty split on everything. Including the pony." "There's a pony?" "There's a pony, Bill. It's princess-themed. Read the flyer." He grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Then let's go shopping." They strolled toward the gate, Bill wobbling in his heels, Molly rehearsing her tow-truck sob story under her breath. The smell of cake and desperation hung in the air. Behind them, a six-year-old in a tiara watched from the bounce house, lifting her walkie-talkie with terrifying calm. "Grandma, the clowns are here. Initiate Operation Sprinkles."