Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8TXVA9CDENJ46GEH21PXJB

The back of the van smelled of old pizza and regret. Molly, peering through binoculars at the brightly decorated community hall, didn’t lower them as she spoke. “Target is a six-year-old named Timmy. Theme is ‘Super Squirrels.’ The cake is shaped like an acorn. Intel suggests twenty-five guests, all under four feet tall.” Bill, fiddling with a coil of rope, snorted. “A cake shaped like a nut. Perfect. Our biggest score yet.” “Don’t be sour. Parents overspend. We’re looking at a haul of plastic dinosaurs, building blocks, and at least one premium gift card. This is a low-risk, high-reward operation.” “Low risk? Molly, we’re two professional thieves planning to rob a birthday party. The perimeter security is a dad with a barbecue apron that says ‘Grill Sergeant.’” “Which is why phase one is infiltration.” Molly finally lowered the binoculars, producing two garish costumes from a duffel bag. “We go in as party entertainers. I’ll be ‘Squeaky the Squirrel.’ You’ll be ‘Chippy the Chipmunk.’” Bill stared at the fuzzy brown suit with giant, cartoonish eyes. “I’d rather rappel from the ceiling.” “And how do you propose we explain a black-clad figure abseiling into the bouncy castle? No, we blend. You’ll be on distraction duty. I’ve modified a bubble machine to produce a dense, non-toxic fog. You activate it during the ‘Pin the Tail on the Squirrel’ game. In the confusion, I access the gift table.” “What’s my extraction?” “You exit via the rear. The getaway vehicle will be disguised as a lost ice cream truck. I’ve installed a freezer in the back; we can stash the loot under the Neapolitan.” Bill rubbed his temples. “The complexity… for a bunch of action figures. What’s the contingency for a toddler spotting us?” “Standard protocol. We offer a sticker and a juice box. They have the attention span of a goldfish.” Molly unfolded a detailed floor plan. “Now, the main obstacle is the mother, ‘Karen.’ She’s hyper-vigilant. She will notice if Chippy the Chipmunk is sweating profusely and muttering about ‘the package.’” “I don’t mutter.” “You mutter. Just follow my lead. Once I have the goods, I’ll signal with our pre-arranged phrase: ‘Who wants to see Squeaky do a magic trick?’” “And then?” “Then you trigger the secondary distraction.” She handed him a small, furry pouch. “Squirrel-themed glitter bombs. Deploy them near the cake. While they’re picking glitter out of buttercream, we’re gone.” Bill sighed, holding up the chipmunk head. The smile was permanently sewn into a manic grin. “I feel like my dignity is in the acorn-shaped cake.” “Dignity is a liability in our line of work, Bill. Now, suit up. Timmy’s big moment starts in twenty minutes. Remember, no names, no fingerprints, and for heaven’s sake, don’t eat any of the cake. It’s a professional operation.” “Can I at least hit the piñata?” “Only if it’s part of the plan.”