Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PZKG5MS2RW6725B4N33TY

Molly crouched behind a rented bouncy castle, adjusting the party hats she'd disguised herself with—three of them, stacked, because one hat was for amateurs. Bill wriggled up beside her dressed as a clown, though his makeup suggested a clown who had recently lost a custody battle. The backyard sprawled before them like a treasure map drawn by a sugar-crazed cartographer. A table groaned under a mountain of presents, wrapped in paper featuring cartoon dinosaurs and what appeared to be a duck wearing sunglasses. Somewhere, a piñata dangled, stuffed with candy and, if the birthday boy's wealthy grandmother was to be believed, several savings bonds. Bill consulted the laminated diagram he'd prepared. He had laminated everything. His sock was laminated. The diagram indicated a two-pronged approach: he would distract the children with his clown routine, while Molly loaded presents into the wagon she'd hidden under a tarp near the lemonade stand. "You look suspicious," she whispered. "I'm a clown." "Exactly." Their plan had one flaw, which they discovered simultaneously when the birthday boy approached, pointed at Bill, and announced to the entire party that this was not the clown his parents had hired. Bill froze mid-juggle. Molly, still wearing three party hats, began slowly backing toward the wagon, which a dog was now urinating on.