Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ00SBEB18SG2QZBWN072GYF

The backyard of the Pemberton residence was a pastel-colored crime scene in the making. Pink streamers dangled from oak trees like party supply tinsel. A bouncy castle inflated itself with the kind of optimism that Molly found personally offensive. She pressed the binoculars against her eyes and studied the terrain with the seriousness of a general before D-Day. Beside her, Bill chewed his sandwich and waited. "Look at that," Molly said, lowering the binoculars. "Three separate gift tables. We're going to need the van." "I told you we needed the van." "You're right. You told me. I didn't listen. This is me acknowledging that you told me." Bill took another bite. "So what's the plan?" Molly unfolded a hand-drawn map she'd sketched on a placemat from Denny's. She'd used colored pencils. The bouncy castle was rendered in exquisite magenta. The entrance points were marked with tiny skulls. "Okay. The party starts at two. By two-fifteen, every parent will be parked in lawn chairs, staring at their phones like zombies. That's our window. I go in dressed as a clown." "A clown." "Professional clowns are trusted at children's parties. It's science." "Do you know how to be a clown?" "Bill, I have been performing a clown act for most of my adult life. It's just never been literal until today." She traced a path on the map with her finger. "I mingle. I make balloon animals. I build trust. Meanwhile, you're in the van with the back doors open." "What if someone asks you to do a trick?" "I'll honk my nose." "That's not a trick." "It is if you commit to it." Bill looked at the map. There was an arrow pointing toward the side fence with the word "EGRESS" written in red. He admired her penmanship. She'd even drawn a tiny wheelbarrow near the gift tables. "What's the wheelbarrow for?" "That's the getaway vehicle." "I thought we had a van." "The wheelbarrow gets us from the tables to the fence. The van gets us from the fence to the warehouse. It's a two-stage extraction." "A wheelbarrow, Molly." "It was the only one I could find that had a flat-free tire." She folded the map back along its creases and tucked it into her jacket pocket. In the distance, a clown car pulled up to the Pemberton house and actual professional clowns began emerging, one after another, like a human accordion. Molly lowered her binoculars slowly. "Bill." "I see it." "There's already clowns." "So what do we do?" Molly watched as the last clown emerged and began unloading a trunk full of juggling pins. Her jaw tightened. She picked up the binoculars again and scanned the backyard one more time. "Okay. New plan. You're the clown. I'll be the wheelbarrow." "How would that even—" "Don't ask questions, Bill. Just trust the wheelbarrow."