Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8VCV2J67T95B3D6YNXQWY5

Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the hood of the van, smoothing out a wrinkle that bisected the bounce house. Bill leaned over her shoulder, chewing a piece of licorice like it owed him money. "Walk me through it again," Bill said. "Okay. The party starts at two. We've got Princess Sparkle arriving at two fifteen, which gives us our distraction window. Every kid in that backyard is going to swarm her like she's made of candy." "Is she made of candy?" "She's a woman named Debra from Chatsworth, Bill. Focus." "I'm focused. I'm extremely focused. I just think it's worth knowing what Princess Sparkle is made of." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "The presents will be stacked on a folding table near the garage. Standard suburban setup. No lock on the side gate. We go in quiet, we load the bag, we go out quiet." "What kind of presents are we talking about? Because last time you said it would be worth it and I ended up with forty dollars' worth of Play-Doh." "This is a rich kid's party, Bill. Westside. The dad drives a Tesla. We're talking tablets, drones, maybe one of those electric cars kids drive around in." "Those little cars?" "Those little cars retail for three hundred bucks." Bill whistled low and adjusted his beanie. "Alright, I'm in. What about the parents?" "The mom will be inside handling the cake situation. The dad will be manning the grill because that's what dads do at these things. He will not leave the grill. I've studied him. The man has a relationship with that grill that borders on romantic." "And if he does leave the grill?" "He won't." "But if he does." Molly sighed. "Then you create a diversion." "What kind of diversion?" "I don't know, Bill. Walk up and ask him about his grilling technique. That'll buy us twenty minutes minimum." Bill nodded slowly, the way he always did when he was pretending to understand something. Molly watched him mouth the words grilling technique to himself. "One more thing," she said. "There's a dog." "How big?" "It's a golden retriever." "Oh, those are friendly." "Extremely friendly. That's the problem. It's going to love us. It's going to follow us. It's going to want to be part of the heist." "Can it be part of the heist?" "No, the dog cannot be part of the heist." Bill pulled a hot dog from his jacket pocket. Molly stared at it. "Why do you have that?" "I always carry a emergency hot dog." "An emergency hot dog." "For situations exactly like this. I'll toss it, the dog goes after it, we grab the presents." Molly opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. She looked at the map, looked at the hot dog, and looked back at Bill. "That's actually not terrible," she said. Bill grinned and took a bite of the hot dog. Molly closed her eyes. "That was for the dog, Bill." "I've got another one," he said, and pulled a second hot dog from the other pocket.