Run: 2026-09-23-01M37Q8933NE1JNR82DB7PS7DJ

Molly crouched behind the bouncy castle van, binoculars pressed to her face. Beyond the hedge, the party raged like a hurricane of sugar and shrieking six-year-olds. Bill squeezed in beside her, wheezing and clutching a clipboard. He'd printed badges that read PARTY INSPECTOR, which fooled no one but made him feel official. "Is that a clown or security?" she whispered. "Both. Clowns are haunted surveillance cameras." "So we wait for cake. Nobody watches the gifts then." Bill shook his head and pointed at a rainbow piñata swinging from the oak like a festive threat. "Wrong. That's when the piñata happens. Chaos. Beautiful, weaponized chaos. We take the whole table and blame the candy." Molly lowered the binoculars slowly, the way one lowers a weapon. "You want to steal presents during a piñata?" "I want to steal presents because of a piñata. It's an alibi made of screaming children." Somewhere inside, a child shrieked with joy, and Bill flinched like it was gunfire. Molly stared at him. "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you?" "Since my nephew's party. I lost a gift card in that scrum." "Fine. Piñata plan. But if that clown makes me a balloon animal, we abort." "Deal. Although he does excellent terriers."