Run: 2026-10-05-01M46BF0DYG669RA2HHPMF0CDQ

Molly spread the birthday invitation across their kitchen table like a blueprint for the national mint. Bill studied the glittery unicorn printed above the address with professional suspicion. In his experience, unicorns meant trouble, usually involving sticky fingers and adults willing to argue about the correct distribution of party bags. Molly tapped the scheduled entertainment. “We enter as magicians, grab presents, then vanish before cake.” Bill scratched his chin. A pink balloon bobbed beside him, confiscated during reconnaissance and already undermining his dignity. “I refuse fake mustaches. Last time, mine frightened the clown.” Their plan depended on disguises, timing, and a borrowed rabbit that had bitten three previous owners. Molly favored a dramatic distraction. Bill favored postponement until the guests possessed fewer water pistols. They had identified the present table beside the bouncy castle. Unfortunately, the birthday girl had appointed her grandmother head of security. Grandmother possessed a whistle, orthopedic shoes, and the uncompromising stare of someone who had survived decades of school fundraising. Molly packed their equipment into a velvet bag. Bill checked the getaway bicycle, its basket disappointingly small. Outside, the rabbit escaped, ate half their invitation, and settled triumphantly inside the bag. Their first hostage demanded carrots.