Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8WWSRE4MX5PCKTT0X73FZ2

Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the hood of their rusted van and smoothed out the corners with her palms. She had spent three days on reconnaissance, which mostly meant sitting in her car eating crackers and watching a bouncy castle get inflated. "The target is a sixth birthday party," she said, tapping the map with a pen. "Thirty-two children, sixteen adults, one very distracted clown." Bill squinted at the map. "Why is the bouncy castle drawn bigger than the house?" "Because the bouncy castle is a significant obstacle, Bill. Do you want to walk me through your concerns, or do you want to be rich?" He adjusted his beanie and leaned closer. "I want to be rich. Obviously. I'm just saying the map looks like it was drawn by one of the thirty-two children." Molly rolled up the map and pointed it at him. "The party starts at two. We go in at four, during cake. Everyone watches the cake. It is a scientific fact that human beings cannot look away from a cake with candles on it." Bill scratched his chin. "What about the dog? You said there was a dog." "A labradoodle named Soup. He's friendly." "How do you know his name is Soup?" "Because I spent three days on reconnaissance." Bill stared at her for a long moment. The afternoon sun sat heavy over the suburb and somewhere in the distance, a child was already screaming about something that probably wasn't an emergency. "What exactly are we expecting to find in there?" Bill asked. "It's a birthday party for a six-year-old. We're talking toy trucks and art sets." Molly turned to face him with the particular expression she reserved for people who underestimated her research. "Gerald Hutchins is turning six. His father is Derek Hutchins, regional sales manager and compulsive over-spender. I watched seventeen people arrive yesterday with gifts the size of small furniture. One woman brought something wrapped in a box that required a dolly." Bill's eyebrows climbed his forehead. "A dolly." "A dolly, Bill." He was quiet for a moment, clearly doing calculations behind his eyes that had nothing to do with mathematics and everything to do with greed. "Okay," he said finally. "Okay, I'm in. But I want it noted that I had reservations." "Noted and immediately disregarded." Molly tucked the map into her jacket. "We wear the balloon animal hats I bought. We blend with the chaos. We load the van during cake, and we are gone before anyone notices that Soup the labradoodle has eaten the bottom tier." "Wait, is Soup going to eat the bottom tier?" "Almost certainly. He did it at the Easter egg hunt too." She climbed into the driver's seat and patted the steering wheel. "Now get in. We need to practice looking like people who belong at children's parties." Bill got in. He was deeply unsure about all of this, and that, Molly knew, was exactly where she needed him.