Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFHQ9JRPVYF4S0N2P7FM2VH

"You're telling me this is a *children's* party?" Bill said, staring at the invitation through his one good eye. "It's a goldmine, Bill. Thirty-two kids. That's thirty-two presents minimum. You know what those parents buy? Electronics. Jewelry. Gift cards nobody checks." Molly unfolded a hand-drawn blueprint on the diner table. "Now, the entrance is here—through the bounce house." "The bounce house." "Through it. Not on it. I've already cut a slit in the bottom. We crawl in, deflate it gradually, and emerge behind the cake table." "What about the clown?" Molly paused. "There's always a clown." "There's *always* a clown, Molly. Clowns are trained observers. That's literally the only thing they're good at besides balloon animals." "Fine. I'll handle the clown. You grab the presents." "How?" "Grab and go, Bill. Grab and go." "You want me to carry thirty-two wrapped boxes out the back door of a children's party in broad daylight." "Not wrapped. Unwrapped first. Saves weight. Saves time. Saves wrapping paper, honestly, for future jobs." Bill stared at her for a long moment. "I left accounting for this." "And I left *prison* to find better partners," Molly snapped. "Bounce house. Three o'clock. Don't be late."