Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ07HBQT21AP5CGY99B3KTX5

Molly spread the blueprints across the table in their cramped apartment, though calling them blueprints was generous. They were crayon drawings she'd snatched from a recycling bin outside a kindergarten, hastily annotated with red marker. "Alright, Bill. Listen up. Operation Birthday Blitz is a go." She tapped the paper with a pen. "The target is 442 Maple Drive. Saturday afternoon. Two o'clock sharp." Bill leaned forward, squinting at the drawings. "These look like a five-year-old made them." "The intel is authentic. I bribed the kid on the tricycle with a fruit snack." "What kind of fruit snack?" "The good kind. Mango." Bill nodded, suddenly respectful. "Go on then." Molly cleared her throat and pointed to a crude circle on the paper. "The front door. Too risky. Mrs. Henderson runs the party, and she's got eyes like a hawk. Last year she caught Tommy Weaver sneaking cake before lunch and that kid didn't sit down for a week." "So how do we get in?" "The doggy door." "The doggy door? Molly, I'm six foot two." "Then lose some weight." "I'm not losing weight for a heist." She rolled her eyes. "Fine. The doggy door is for the backup plan. Primary entry goes through the kitchen window. The party schedule says pin the tail on the donkey at two fifteen. That's our window. Everyone will be in the living room, blindfolded and screaming." Bill pulled out a notepad and started scribbling. "What are we working with? Gift-wise?" "I did recon last Tuesday. I posed as a clown." "You don't know how to be a clown." "I made balloon animals. Two of them popped. A child cried. I still got intel." She pulled out a list. "We're looking at one gaming console, three tablets, two bicycles, a karaoke machine, and something wrapped in purple paper that squeaks." "Squeaks?" "Squeaks." Bill wrote it all down. "That's a solid haul. What about security?" "Mrs. Henderson's husband, Gary. He's the wild card. He usually falls asleep in the recliner by two thirty. Snores loud enough to rattle the windows." "And if he doesn't fall asleep?" "Then we hit him with the pie." "The pie?" "There's always a pie at these things, Bill. It's a birthday party. You improvise." He sat back and rubbed his chin. "What about the kids? Forty of them hopped up on sugar is a nightmare scenario." "Already handled. I called ahead and requested a magician. The magician will be doing close-up magic in the backyard for twenty minutes. It's the longest twenty minutes in children's entertainment. No kid leaves a magic show." "You called a magician?" "I called three. We've got coverage." Bill stared at her for a long moment. "You're beautiful, you know that?" "Flattery doesn't split the loot, Bill." She rolled up the blueprints. "Now suit up. You're wearing the gorilla costume." "Why the gorilla costume?" "Because if Gary wakes up, you're not a burglar. You're part of the entertainment." He groaned and reached for the costume bag. Somewhere across town, a child blew out practice candles and wished for the very things Molly and Bill were already counting.