Run: 2026-04-24-01KPZTYBMDMVZ3H2ZH4S1PTRZH

Molly spread the blueprints across the kitchen table, pinning down the corners with a half-eaten Pop-Tart and three empty coffee mugs. "Behold," she said. "The Hendersons' backyard. Ground zero." Bill squinted. "That's a drawing of a bouncy castle." "It's a *tactical* drawing of a bouncy castle." "You drew a smiley face on it." "That's the entry point, Bill. Focus." She tapped the paper. "The party starts at two. Cake at two-thirty. Piñata at three. That's our window." "Why the piñata?" "Because," Molly said, leaning back triumphantly, "when twenty hopped-up eight-year-olds are swinging a bat at a papier-mâché donkey, no one is watching the present table." Bill chewed his lip. "I don't love this, Moll." "What's not to love?" "We're stealing from children." "We're stealing from *rich* children. There's a difference." "Is there?" "Morally? Enormously." Bill picked up the Pop-Tart, examined it, put it down. "What if a kid sees us?" "I've thought of that." Molly produced two rubber masks from a duffel bag and slapped them on the table. "Clowns." "Absolutely not." "Bill—" "I said when we started this partnership, no clowns. That was my one rule." "Clowns are disarming." "Clowns are *terrifying*. That's literally their whole deal." "Fine." She huffed and tossed him a different mask. "Happy?" Bill held it up. "This is Shrek." "Kids love Shrek." "Kids loved Shrek in 2003." "Shrek is timeless!" "Molly, I'm not wearing a Shrek mask to commit larceny." "Then wear the clown." "*Fine.* Shrek it is." She grinned and rolled up the blueprints. "Okay. Getaway vehicle?" "Ice cream truck." "Too slow." "It's literally designed to drive through neighborhoods full of children without raising suspicion. It's perfect." Molly paused. "That's... actually a decent point." "I have decent points sometimes." "You have *occasional* points. Don't oversell it." She grabbed a notepad. "Alright. I grab the big stuff—bikes, scooters, that mountain of American Girl dolls Aunt Linda keeps posting about on Facebook." "You've been researching Aunt Linda?" "I've been researching the *target*, Bill. Aunt Linda is a goldmine of intel. Did you know the birthday girl is getting a PlayStation 5?" "How do you—" "Aunt Linda cannot keep a secret to save her life." "God bless Aunt Linda." "God bless Aunt Linda." Molly raised a coffee mug. Bill clinked his against hers. "One question," he said. "Shoot." "What if they have a dog?" "They have a Pomeranian named Biscuit." "Oh no." "What?" "I can't rob a house with a Biscuit in it, Molly. I have a code." "You'll wear Shrek but you won't face a Pomeranian?" "Biscuits are innocent. Shrek is a choice." Molly rubbed her temples. "I'll bring turkey slices. Biscuit gets a feast. Everyone wins." "Everyone except the birthday girl." "She's turning nine, Bill. Builds character." "You are a terrible person." "I'm a *thorough* person." She rolled up the blueprints. "Suit up, Shrek. We've got a party to crash."