Run: 2026-02-18-01KHQ92V4XPEN3PS9P8MCY8MGJ

Molly spread the crayon-drawn map across the hood of the rusty van and smoothed out the wrinkles with her palm. The map had been drawn hastily on the back of a pizza box, and the birthday cake she had sketched in the corner looked more like a volcano. "Okay," she said, tapping the pizza box with a pen. "The presents are piled on the table near the back fence. I counted at least thirty boxes when I did the reconnaissance." Bill squinted at the map. "You did reconnaissance at a seven-year-old's birthday party?" "I brought a gift. A small one." "What was the gift?" "Socks. Now focus." Bill pulled his beanie down over his ears and leaned closer to the pizza box. A gust of wind threatened to carry the whole operation plan into a nearby hedge. He slapped his hand down on the corner just in time. "The bouncy castle is the real problem," Molly continued, pointing to what appeared to be a square with a stick figure flying out of it. "It's positioned right between us and the exit. We cannot, under any circumstances, go near the bouncy castle." "Why not?" "Because last time you went near a bouncy castle you were in there for forty minutes." Bill straightened up with tremendous dignity. "The children dared me." "They were four." "Competitive little creatures." Molly rolled her eyes and returned to the map. The afternoon sun was doing nothing to improve her patience. She had been planning this job for two weeks, had consumed approximately eleven coffees in the process, and she was not about to let Bill's bouncy castle nostalgia derail everything now. "We go in through the side gate at the exact moment they bring out the cake," she said. "Every single person at that party, adult and child alike, will be staring at that cake. It is a biological compulsion. Nobody can resist watching a birthday cake arrive." "How many candles?" "Seven. Why does that matter?" "Just painting a picture." "Paint faster." Molly folded her arms. "We have approximately ninety seconds while they sing. You grab the presents on the left side of the table, I grab the right. We meet at the van, we drive away, we donate everything to the actual charity we promised to donate everything to." Bill blinked. "Wait, we're giving the presents away?" "Of course we are. We're stealing them from Richie Pemberton's party because Richie Pemberton's parents forgot to set up a donation box like they promised the school fundraising committee three months ago." "So we're good guys." "We are extraordinarily good guys." "I feel like that should have been mentioned at the start of this planning process." "Would it have changed your level of commitment to the mission?" Bill thought about it genuinely for a moment, staring off toward the distant sound of children screaming with joy somewhere down the street. "Honestly, no." "Then it didn't matter. Let's go."