Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFBS412ZP6VHSRRBHRG6SZN

The map was spread across the kitchen table, held down by a half-eaten bagel and a coffee mug that said "World's Okayest Criminal." "Here's the thing," Molly said, tapping the crudely drawn floor plan. "The party starts at two. Parents drop kids off. Parents leave. By two-fifteen, it's just us and thirty six-year-olds hopped up on juice boxes." "And cake," Bill added, circling a section of the map labeled KITCHEN - PRESENTS TABLE (PROBABLY). "Never underestimate what cake does to a child. They get distracted. They get sticky. They lose all capacity for spatial awareness." "That's beautiful, Bill. Really inspiring." "I'm just saying. Sugar is our ally." Molly leaned back in her chair and studied him. "Okay. So we're really doing this. We're robbing a children's birthday party." "We're liberating those presents. There's a philosophical difference." "Is there?" "Absolutely. Those kids are five and six. They'll forget about ninety percent of those gifts by Wednesday. We're preventing clutter. We're environmentalists, really." Molly snorted. "Environmentalists." "Gifts are just future landfill, Molly. I read that somewhere. Probably." She shook her head but couldn't suppress a grin. "Alright, eco-warrior. Walk me through it again." Bill stood and began pacing, hands clasped behind his back like a general addressing troops. "I enter first. I'm dressed as the entertainer." "You can't do magic." "I don't need to do magic. I need a sequined vest and a confident attitude. Kids don't know the difference between a magician and a guy who says 'ta-da' a lot. Trust me." "I do not trust you." "Fair. Meanwhile, you come in through the back. Kitchen door's unlocked during parties. I've checked. Twice." "You cased a children's birthday party venue?" "I case everything. It's called professionalism." Molly rolled her eyes. "Go on." "While I'm up front doing card tricks that go nowhere, you load the presents into the van." "The van says 'Uncle Gary's Pest Control' on the side, Bill. It's not exactly inconspicuous." "No one looks at vans. Vans are invisible. It's science." "That is absolutely not science." He waved dismissively. "The point is, we're in and out in twenty minutes. The kids won't even notice. They'll be too busy with the piñata." "And who's doing the piñata?" Bill stopped pacing. His face went pale. "Bill." "I might have forgotten the piñata." "You're supposed to bring the piñata! That was your one job besides the vest!" "I brought the vest!" "The vest is not a piñata!" They stared at each other across the table. The bagel sat between them like a witness. "We could use the bagel," Bill offered. Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "We're going to federal prison." "It's a children's party, Molly. The worst they'll do is make us sit in time-out." "That's what worries me."