Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ05GAPRM09SHZA630KPXRT1

Molly unfolded the blueprint across the table, smoothing out the creases with her fingertips. The floor plan was, admittedly, drawn on the back of a Denny's placemat, but Bill didn't seem to notice. "Alright, here's the target," Molly said, tapping the crayon drawing. "Saturday, 2 PM. 1426 Maple Drive. Little boy named Tyler's sixth birthday party." Bill squinted at the placemat. "That's a waffle house logo on the corner." "Focus, Bill." "Right. So what are we looking at for haul?" Molly pulled out a crumpled list and read aloud. "Two LeapPads, a remote control dinosaur, a basketball hoop, seventeen gift cards to Target, a bike with training wheels, and something called a Squishmallow." "What's a Squishmallow?" "Apparently they're worth more than our rent, Bill. Kids go crazy for them." Bill whistled low. "That's a solid take. What about security?" Molly pointed to a stick figure near the front door. "There's the host, Karen. She's got one of those wine tumblers that says 'Mommy's Sippy Cup.' By 3 PM she'll be two glasses deep in Pinot Grigio." "And the guests?" "Six kids under the age of seven, plus their parents. Most of the parents will be parked in the driveway doom-scrolling on their phones." "Easy entry," Bill nodded. "But what about the dog?" Molly froze. "What dog?" "There's always a dog, Molly. It's a children's party. There's a golden retriever named Biscuit or something that's going to bark the moment we walk in." "Fine. We bring dog treats." "What kind?" "Does it matter?" "It matters to the dog, Molly." She sighed. "Peanut butter flavored. Every dog likes peanut butter." Bill crossed his arms. "What about the bouncy castle?" "What about it?" "How do we get past the bouncy castle? It takes up the entire backyard. You can't just tiptoe past a bouncy castle while six sugar-crazed children are bouncing inside it." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "We go through the garage." "The garage." "Yes." "Where are the parents going to be parked?" A long pause filled the room. "That's a problem," Molly admitted. "See, this is why you need me on the job. I'm the details guy." "You drew the blueprint in ketchup last time, Bill." "It was mustard, and it was artistic." Molly leaned back in her chair. "Okay, new plan. We pose as clowns." Bill stared at her. "Clowns." "Yes. Professional entertainment. We show up early, we unload the presents into the van, and we leave before anyone notices." "Kids love clowns?" "No, kids are terrified of clowns. That's the genius part. By the time they stop screaming, we'll be three blocks away." Bill considered this for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "Molly, that's the dumbest idea I've ever heard." "Is that a yes?" "That's absolutely a yes." Molly smiled and folded up the placemat. "Good. I already ordered the costumes. Yours has a rainbow wig and oversized shoes." "Does yours?" "No, mine is tasteful." "That doesn't feel fair." "Life isn't fair, Bill. That's why we steal things." Bill grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "One more question." "What?" "Do I get to do the balloon animals?" Molly shook her head. "You always pop them." "They're delicate!" Bill protested from the hallway. "Just don't blow it this time, Bill. We're stealing from six-year-olds. We cannot afford to be incompetent." "Copy that," Bill called back. "No incompetent theft. Got it." Molly stared at the ceiling, already regretting everything, and reached for the wine bottle on the counter. Maybe she'd bring one of those tumblers on the job.