Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8V4JN46F9Y1YGNX65N0AKS

Molly spread the crayon drawing across the hood of their rusted van and smoothed out the edges with her palm. The drawing depicted a house, a rainbow, and what appeared to be a dog wearing a hat. "Where did you get this?" Bill asked. "Off the fridge. It's a map." "It's a drawing of a unicorn, Molly." "That's the side entrance." She tapped the rainbow firmly. "And this is where they're keeping the presents." Bill leaned closer and squinted. "That's the sun." "It has a bow on it, Bill. The sun doesn't have a bow on it." Bill opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked at the drawing once more and sighed in the heavy way of a man who had made several poor life decisions. "Okay," he said. "Walk me through it." Molly cracked her knuckles. "The party starts at two. Bouncy castle goes up at one-thirty, which means every single kid in that yard will be distracted and screaming." "I love the screaming part. That's our cover." "That is our cover, yes. You go in through the back gate dressed as a clown." Bill straightened up. "I'm sorry, what?" "Clown costume. Full wig. Big shoes. Nobody questions a clown at a birthday party." "Nobody questions a clown because they're too busy being terrified of a clown." "That's a you problem, Bill. Emotionally." "I'm not wearing the shoes." "You're wearing the shoes. The shoes are load-bearing to the whole operation." Bill stared at the rainbow map again as if hoping it might offer him an alternative. It did not. "And what are you doing while I'm out here looking like a nightmare?" he asked. "I'm posing as the gift table attendant." "That's not a real job." "Parents will believe anything at a birthday party. They're exhausted and slightly drunk on mimosas. I walk in with a clipboard, I smile, I start moving presents to my cart, and nobody says a word." "What kind of presents are we even talking about?" Molly pulled out a folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket. "According to the invite list I may have intercepted, we are looking at three remote-control cars, a junior chemistry set, something called a Mega Blast Laser Tag Arena, and approximately seven variations of the same princess doll." Bill whistled low. "That's a solid haul." "It's a beautiful haul, Bill." "We're still terrible people." "We are absolutely terrible people." Molly rolled up the crayon map and tucked it under her arm. "The clown suit is in the back of the van. There's a red nose on the passenger seat." Bill trudged around to the back of the van and yanked open the doors. He stared at the enormous rainbow wig for a long, mournful moment. "Nobody," he called out, "is going to believe you're a gift table attendant." Molly was already walking away, clipboard in hand.