Run: 2026-03-18-01KM07GDGA5NM4PRXYG7Q2WM1Z

The rain hammered against the windshield of the van, casting wobbly reflections of Molly’s determined face on the glass. She jabbed a finger at the blueprint spread across the dashboard, her hwisdom tooth glinting under the flickering dome light. "The cake table’s right here. That’s where the presents’ll be. Piled up like a gold rush waiting to happen." Bill scratched his stubble, a crumb of stale donut clinging to his lip. He squinted at the diagram like it was a cryptic treasure map. "So we go in through the deliveries entrance. Got it." He tapped the page where a small red arrow marked a door. "But how do we not look suspicious carrying out armfuls of Barbies and remote-control cars?" Molly flicked the donut crumb off his shirt with a finger. "Disguises, Bill. We dress up like entertainers. You know, balloons, face paint, one of those stupid clown wigs—" "Wait, base clown wig?" Bill interrupted. "Because I draw the line at full Sideshow Bob gig. That’s a one-way ticket to prison yard infamy." She rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. "Not base clown. Magician. With a top hat and everything. The kids’ll think we’re part of the show." Molly leaned back, grinning. "And when they’re distracted by your fake disappearing act, I scoop up the good stuff. Easy." Bill rubbed his chin. "What if they don’t fall for the trick? What if they see through it and start crying?" Molly waved a hand. "Kids cry over spilled juice, Bill. We’re in and out before anyone knows what hit ‘em." She reached under her seat and pulled out a jester’s hat. "Here. You can practice in this. Makes you look less like a felon and more like... a public menace." Bill plopped the hat on his head, the bells jingling sadly. "I look like a rejected Renaissance fair reject." Molly smirked. "Perfect. Now we just need to figure out the getaway." She pulled out a slightly crumpled map. "The alley out back has a dumpster big enough to hide you if things go south." Bill’s face fell. "Hide me? You mean you're not going to hide with me?" She tossed a glow stick at his chest. "Nope. I’m the distraction. You’re the muscle. If anything goes wrong, you chuck the toys into the van while I hold them off with the dramatic monologue." Bill sighed, the bells on the hat flopping as he nodded. "Fine. But when the cops show up and it’s all ‘Why yes officer, we were hired clown assassins for the NSA,’ I’m blaming you." Molly clapped her hands. "Deal. Now help me break into that supply closet. We need more balloons for our alibis."