Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFEX19KPP8RDQSSSHAJ3M13

Molly unfolded the blueprint on the table, smoothing the crinkles from a soda stain. “The perimeter is secure. Balloon arch at the east entrance, suspiciously intact.” Bill squinted at the drawing. “That’s a crayon drawing, Molly.” “Artistic license. Now, the target. The presents are located in the designated ‘Pile of Pure Joy’ next to the clown.” “The clown is the problem,” Bill muttered, scratching his neck. “Big fella. Red shoes. Saw him making balloon animals. The man is a wizard with latex.” “He’s a distraction, Bill. A festooned buffoon. We use him. At precisely 2:15, when the ‘Happy Birthday’ song begins, he’ll be occupied. The children’s volume peaks at 110 decibels. No one will hear the extraction.” “Extraction? They’re wrapped in Paw Patrol paper, Molls.” “The wrapping is a layer of misdirection. We’re after the contents. I’ve analyzed the gift registry. Item one: a deluxe drone with first-person-view camera. Item two: a gaming console. Item three: a solid gold piggy bank.” “A gold piggy bank? At a seven-year-old’s party?” “Grandma Eunice is extravagant. Our entry point is the sliding glass door to the patio. The doggy door is too small, and I refuse to go in on my stomach again.” “Because of last time? The terrier?” “We don’t speak of the terrier. Now, diversion. You’ll create a minor spill near the snack table. Juice box, preferably.” “A juice box spill? That’s our grand diversion?” “It’s brilliant in its simplicity. A child will cry. Parents will descend. Chaos reigns for forty-five seconds. I slip in through the patio door, neutralize the motion-sensor candy bowl—” “Neutralize a candy bowl.” “It’s pressure-sensitive, Bill. I’ll place a weighted decoy. I gather the target parcels. You meet me at the swing set at 2:22. We exfiltrate via the hedge line.” Bill leaned back, crossing his arms. “It’s a lot of risk for a drone and a gold pig.” “Think of the prestige. We’re not just thieves. We’re artists. We’re stealing joy from the joy-thieves. It’s poetic justice.” Molly tapped the blueprint. “Your role is crucial. The spill must be dramatic. Not a splash, a geyser.” “And if the clown sees me?” “Smile. Compliment his flower that squirts water. Blend in. You’re a fun-loving adult at a party. You’re Bill.” “I hate being Bill.” “You’re brilliant at it. Now, the alarm system.” She pointed to a drawing of a cat. “Garfield. He sleeps on the present pile. One wrong move and he’ll meow.” “You want me to drug a cat?” “I want you to bribe a cat. I have catnip in the van. We’ll dust the wrapping paper. It’s a catnip-scented Trojan horse.” Bill stared at her for a long moment. “You know, most people just buy the drone.” Molly rolled up the blueprint. “Where’s the art in that? Where’s the story? Now, practice your spill face. Look concerned, but not alarmed. Annoyed, but willing to help. And for heaven’s sake, wear the Hawaiian shirt. You need to look approachable.”