Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFCRFPEDS7DFD5ZX9WYHTYE

Molly spread the floor plan across the hood of her sedan, weighting the corners with two cans of energy drink and a novelty pencil eraser shaped like a dinosaur. "Okay," she said, jabbing her finger at the layout she'd drawn on the back of a pizza box. "The target is 14 Maplewood Lane. Saturday afternoon. Two to four o'clock. Pin the Tail on the Donkey is scheduled for two-thirty. That's our window." Bill leaned in, squinting. "That's your window? Molly, there'll be like forty kids in there." "Exactly," Molly said. "Forty screaming, sugar-fueled children who will not notice two adults in disguise moving through their midst. Kids don't notice anything when there's cake involved. I once walked into my nephew's birthday party carrying a flat-screen television and nobody blinked." Bill scratched his neck. "Where is the television now?" "That's not important. What is important is the haul." She flipped the pizza box over and produced a second diagram, this one showing the layout of the living room with alarming precision. There, along the north wall, she'd drawn a cluster of boxes wrapped in bright paper. "I did reconnaissance last Tuesday. I posed as a potential client for the clown they've hired. Got a full tour of the house." "You posed as a clown client?" "I posed as someone interested in hiring a clown. That's different. Anyway, the presents are staged along the wall behind the craft table. Fifteen, maybe twenty gifts. We grab them during the cake reveal." "How do you know when the cake gets revealed?" Molly reached into her jacket and produced a photograph of a bakery order slip. "Because I called the bakery pretending to be the mother confirming the allergy situation. The cake has fondant dinosaurs on it. The mother ordered a dinosaur cake, Bill. These gifts are going to be magnificent. Board games, action figures, probably one of those little battery-powered cars kids ride around on." Bill whistled low. "You want to steal a battery-powered car from a five-year-old's birthday party." "I want to steal twenty of them, actually. The resale market on kids' toys is extraordinary. I listed a used Lite-Brite last month and had seven offers within an hour." "What's the entry plan?" Molly tapped the back door of the house on her diagram. "Service entrance. Opens onto the kitchen. The host will be supervising the craft table at two-fifteen, which gives us ninety seconds to enter, load, and exit through the side gate to the alley where you'll have the van running." "The van," Bill repeated slowly. "I drive a hatchback, Molly." "Which is why you're borrowing a van from your cousin Gerald." "Gerald is not going to lend me a van to steal children's birthday presents." "Tell him it's for church." Bill stared at her for a long moment. "Gerald goes to that church." "Then tell him it's for the other church." Molly folded her diagrams and tucked them into her jacket. "Look, Bill, the clown makes his entrance at two-forty-five. Once that happens, the children will be absolutely mesmerized. We could probably redecorate the living room and they wouldn't notice. This is the perfect crime." Bill exhaled. "What if one of the kids recognizes us?" "What are they going to do, Bill? Call the police? They don't have phones. They have juice boxes and goldfish crackers. We'll be gone before anyone finishes their cake slice." Bill looked at the pizza box, then at Molly, then back at the pizza box. "Fine. But I'm not wearing a disguise." Molly reached behind the seat and pulled out a fake mustache, a pair of oversized glasses, and a blonde wig. "Already handled."