Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ01SAQPTVB3J23KCC81G66E

The basement smelled like mildew and broken dreams, which Molly thought was fitting for a planning session. She unrolled a hand-drawn map across the folding table while Bill leaned over her shoulder, squinting. "Okay, the party starts at two," Molly said, tapping the map. "We have a three-hour window before the first parent comes to pick up their kid." "Three hours to steal presents from children," Bill said, rubbing his chin. "I want you to know that this feels different from the museum job." "It pays less, too." "Then why are we doing this?" Molly sighed. "Because we owe Tanya a debt, and Tanya's kid wasn't invited to this party. Apparently the birthday boy called Tanya's kid a 'booger head' on the playground, and now Tanya wants revenge." "Revenge through gift theft." "Revenge through gift theft," Molly confirmed. Bill studied the map. "What's this circle here?" "That's the bounce house. It's the centerpiece of the operation. Every kid will be in that thing at some point. When they are, the living room where the presents are stacked will be empty." "How do you know that?" "Because I called the party planner pretending to be a health inspector. She told me everything. The bounce house is a professional-grade unit, two hundred square feet, maximum occupancy twelve children." Bill blinked. "You impersonated a government official to case a children's party." "Commitment to the craft, Bill." "Right." He pointed to another section of the map. "What about this entrance?" "That's the side door off the kitchen. Parents will be coming in and out through the front, which means the side door is our way in. I've got a caterer's uniform for each of us." "We're going as caterers?" "We're going as caterers. We walk in carrying trays. Nobody questions a person carrying a tray." "What's on the tray?" "Nothing. That's the beauty. If anyone asks, we're picking up the empty trays from the appetizer course." Bill nodded slowly. "That's actually not bad." "I also need you to handle the clown." "The clown?" "There's a clown booked for two-thirty. His name is Bumbles. He's going to be doing balloon animals near the front entrance. If he sees us leaving with armfuls of wrapped presents, he might cause a scene." "What do you want me to do?" "Distract him. You know any balloon animals?" "I can make a sword." "That'll work. Challenge him to a balloon sword fight. Kids will love it. He won't be able to refuse without looking like a bad sport." Bill crossed his arms. "I can't believe I'm going to sword fight a clown named Bumbles." "Think of it as improvisational theater." "And what about security? Any cameras?" "One, but it's pointed at the driveway. The homeowner installed it last month after someone kept stealing his newspaper." "Was that us?" "That was us." "Okay, so side door, caterer disguise, present extraction during bounce house peak, and I duel a clown." Bill took a deep breath. "What's the exit strategy?" "We load the presents into the van out back. You back it into the alley behind the fence at two-fifteen." "And if something goes wrong?" Molly smiled. "Nothing goes wrong at a children's party, Bill. What are they going to do, release the hounds?" "There could be a dog." "There's a golden retriever named Mr. Biscuits. He's eleven and sleeps twenty hours a day." Bill extended his hand. "Alright. I'm in." Molly shook it. "Welcome to Operation Booger Head."