Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNF9Z45B4PXDQN1TV23KDSE

The basement smelled like old pizza and broken dreams, which was perfect for a planning session. Molly spread a napkin across the grimy table, revealing a hand-drawn map of the Hendersons' suburban mansion. "Alright, here's the play," she whispered, tapping a finger on the crude blueprint. "Saturday afternoon, three to five PM. The kid's turning seven, so expect forty-five minutes of screaming and balloon animals." Bill leaned forward, his chair creaking in protest. "The presents are in the living room, right near the bounce house rental. I scouted it yesterday while walking my fake emotional support dog." "The golden retriever?" "Labrador, actually. Much more trustworthy looking." Molly nodded, pulling out a tiny notebook covered in cat stickers. "I've got the catering schedule. Cake arrives at four-fifteen. That's our window. The parents will be distracted by the gift-opening ceremony, and the entertainment guy—some guy named Disco Dan—will be doing his thing." "What's his thing?" "Exactly. That's our advantage." Bill scratched his chin thoughtfully. "What about the neighbors? Mrs. Patterson watches everything from her window like some kind of retiree hawk." "I've already handled her. She's getting a free spa day for two at that new salon on Fifth Street. I told her it was a church raffle prize." "You forged a church raffle ticket?" "I forged an entire church, Bill. Don't complicate things." The plan was simple—well, as simple as stealing from children could be. They'd pose as the entertainment. Molly had already rented a costume that promised "ultimate magic for ages three to seven." "I'm going as a clown?" Bill groaned. "A party clown. Very different. It's professional. I'll handle the crowd while you work the present table. When I signal, you grab the loot bags and we slip out the side door." Bill's eyes widened. "We're stealing from a seven-year-old's birthday party?" "Technically we're stealing FROM the presents, not the kid. The kid gets to keep the memory." Molly shrugged. "And honestly, that little guy has like six gaming consoles at home. He won't even notice." "That's the most morally flexible thing you've ever said." "I learned from the best. You." Bill stood up, stretching his back. "Alright, I'm in. But if we get arrested, I'm telling them everything." "Of course you will." Molly grinned. "That's why I love working with you. Now let's go steal some birthday presents from a seven-year-old. What could possibly go wrong?" As they climbed the stairs, Bill paused. "Wait. What about the piñata?" Molly's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's just an extra. Now let's move."