Run: 2026-04-24-01KPZTWBFBZFDQQJ8D3EVZ9A68

Molly unrolled the blueprints across the sticky diner table, pinning the corners with ketchup bottles. Bill squinted at the crayon drawing of a bouncy castle. "Explain to me again why we're robbing an eight-year-old," he muttered. "Because Timmy Henderson's father is a hedge fund manager," Molly said. "That kid is getting a PlayStation, a drone, and possibly a pony." "A pony fits in the van?" "We're not stealing the pony, Bill." He scratched his chin. "What about the clown? Clowns see things." "The clown is the distraction. I bribed him with forty bucks and a bottle of gin." "Generous." "He's a sad clown. It's a whole thing." Molly tapped the blueprint. "You enter through the patio during pin-the-tail. I swap the gift pile with decoy boxes full of socks." "Kids are gonna cry." "Kids cry anyway," she said. "It's their whole brand." Bill sighed, stealing a fry. "What if we get caught?" "By whom? Grandma? She's ninety and legally blind." "Fair point." "Wear the magician costume. Nobody questions a magician." "I can't do magic, Molly." "Exactly," she grinned. "You'll make the presents disappear." Bill groaned. She high-fived herself anyway.