Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ03FWN0A1CS8T674E9BPQRG

Molly crouched behind the dumpster outside Pizza Palace, scanning the building through binoculars while Bill adjusted his disguise. She lowered the binoculars and turned to face him, her expression one of deep skepticism. "You look ridiculous." "I look like a clown." "Same thing." Bill examined his reflection in a car window. The oversized polka-dot bow tie, the rainbow suspenders, the bright yellow wig—it was all there. He sniffed the flower on his chest and a small cloud of water shot directly into his left eye. "Damn it." "Professional clown, Bill. Professional." "Clowns are professionals. I researched this. There's a whole convention." "You watched one documentary and now you're an expert." "I am an expert. I know three balloon animals." "Which ones?" "The dog, the sword, and the other dog that's actually just the sword with a bend in it." Molly pulled a crumpled blueprint from her jacket and smoothed it across her knee. The overhead light from the parking lot illuminated purple arrows she'd drawn pointing toward what she'd labeled THE GOODS. "The presents are in the back room. I got the layout from the mom's Instagram. She posted seventeen photos of the setup. People are idiots." "Agreed. So we go in during the magic show, grab the gifts, and walk out through the kitchen." "Correct. The magician goes on at two fifteen. That gives us exactly twenty minutes while every child in there is mesmerized by some guy pulling doves out of his sleeves." "Children are stupid." "Bill, they're six. And yes, stupid. But loud. One screams and we're done. So no screaming." "I'm not going to make a child scream, Molly." "You made a banker scream last month." "He looked at my gun! That's a reasonable reaction!" "Just stay focused. We get in, we get the loot, we get out. Fifty two presents on that table. I counted them from the photos. That's a lot of resale value. Lego sets alone could fund us through spring." "What about the cake?" "We're not stealing a cake." "Why not? It's a three-tier princess castle. That thing could go for four hundred on the black market." "There is no black market for children's birthday cake, Bill." "There's a black market for everything." "Not cake. Not used cake." "It wouldn't be used. It would be pre-eaten." "That's the same thing." Bill sniffed his flower again. This time it sprayed water directly into his right eye. He blinked rapidly, tears streaming down his painted cheeks. "I hate this flower." "Leave it alone." "It hates me. It's personal now." Molly grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from the flower. "Focus. The party starts in forty minutes. We go in as entertainment staff, we slip out with fifty two presents, and nobody gets hurt. Especially not any children." "Especially not any children." "And especially not you by that flower." "Especially not me by this flower." Molly handed him the wig, which he placed crookedly on his head. She stared at him for a long moment. "We're going to get caught." "We never get caught." "We look insane." "We look like clowns." "Same thing."