Run: 2026-04-24-01KPZTWS9PXY9K18E6884VTS05

Molly spread the blueprints across the sticky diner table, nudging aside a plate of half-eaten pancakes. Bill squinted at the crayon drawings. "These are the schematics?" he asked. "My niece drew them. She's seven. She's been to the house." "Molly, there's a unicorn on the roof." "That's a satellite dish. Focus, Bill." Bill traced a shaky line with his finger. "And this?" "Back entrance. Leads through the kitchen." "It says 'dragon lair.'" "That's the dad's office. He has a beard. Look, the point is, we go in through here, past the bouncy castle, grab the gift table, and we're out in ninety seconds." Bill leaned back, arms crossed. "I'm not robbing a seven-year-old, Molly." "She's turning eight. And we're not robbing her. We're relocating unopened merchandise." "That's the same thing with extra words." "Bill. Do you know what kids get at birthday parties these days? iPads. Drones. Actual gold-plated fidget spinners. Last month, some kid in Scarsdale got a pony." "We're stealing a pony?" "We're not stealing a pony, Bill, we can't fit a pony in the Civic." "Then what's the plan?" Molly pulled out a clown nose and a floppy red wig. "You're Giggles." "Absolutely not." "I'm Sparkles. I do the balloon animals." "You can't do balloon animals." "I can do a snake." "A snake is just a balloon, Molly." "It's a long balloon. That's the whole trick." She tossed him the wig. "You distract the kids with magic while I load the gifts into the van." "I don't know magic." "You know that card trick." "The one where I drop the cards and swear?" "The kids'll love it. Kids love chaos." Bill held the wig between two fingers like it was radioactive. "And the parents?" "Sheet cake. Nobody pays attention to anything when there's sheet cake." "You're basing an entire operation on sheet cake." "I'm basing it on human nature, Bill. Also piñatas. There's a piñata at two-thirty. That's our window." "Why the piñata?" "Because when that thing bursts, it's every man for himself. Kids hit the floor like it's Black Friday. Parents are filming. Grandma's in tears. Nobody's watching the gift table. We grab, we go." Bill chewed his pancake slowly. "And if we get caught?" "By who? A six-year-old? What's she gonna do, sue us?" "The dad, Molly. The dragon-lair dad." "He's a dentist." "Dentists are strong, Molly. They wrestle molars." Molly sighed and grabbed his hand across the table. "Bill. Listen. We do this one job, we're set till Christmas. Then we hit a bar mitzvah." "A bar mitzvah?" "That's where the real money is. Envelopes, Bill. Cash envelopes." Bill looked down at the crayon blueprint, at the unicorn-satellite, at the dragon-lair, at the smiling stick-figure family holding balloons. He put on the wig. "Fine. But I'm not doing the card trick." "Thank you." "And if there's a pony, we're taking the pony." "Deal."