Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0B25G3EXKHR1Z73CQGJ2AM

Molly spread the blueprints across the table, though they were clearly just a crayon drawing ripped from a refrigerator. Bill squinted at the purple squiggles. "What am I looking at?" "It's the floor plan, Bill. The kid drew it himself and posted it online. His mom thought it was cute." "Security?" "One golden retriever named Sir Biscuit and a Roomba that gets stuck under the couch." Bill nodded slowly. "High risk." "We're going in Saturday at two PM. Peak cake time. Every adult will be distracted by that singing goat mascot the parents hired." "You're joking." "Does the Joker joke, Bill?" "Constantly. That's his whole thing." Molly ignored him. "I go in disguised as the face painter. You go in as the balloon guy. We converge on the present table during musical chairs." "Musical chairs? That's our window?" "Thirty seconds of pure chaos, Bill. Kids screaming, parents filming, nobody watching the corner where fourteen gift bags are sitting unattended. It's beautiful." "What's in the bags that makes this worth it?" Molly leaned forward. "The Hendersons are rich, Bill. Last year their kid got a solid gold piggy bank, a genuine diamond-encrusted tiara for a three-year-old, and stock certificates." "Stock certificates? At a fourth birthday?" "Tech money, Bill. They don't follow normal rules." Bill rubbed his chin. "What about the clown?" "What clown?" "The listing says entertainment includes Bubbles the Clown." Molly froze. "That wasn't in the intelligence." "I saw it on the event page. Bubbles does magic tricks and balloon animals. He'll be everywhere. Clowns have no loyalty." "Fine. We neutralize Bubbles." "How?" "You do the balloon animals. Challenge him to a duel. While he's distracted, I hit the table." "A balloon animal duel?" "You're telling me you can't out-twist some party clown?" Bill straightened up. "I once made a full-scale poodle in under ten seconds at my nephew's birthday." "That's the spirit." "What about the dog?" "Sir Biscuit is a golden retriever. You bring jerky. Every golden retriever on earth will follow jerky to the ends of the earth." Molly pulled a small duffel bag from under the table and unzipped it. Inside were two Hawaiian shirts, a pack of face paint, a bag of beef jerky, and a water gun filled with ketchup. "What's the ketchup for?" "Distraction. If anything goes wrong, I spray myself and yell about a nosebleed. Nobody questions a nosebleed. They just feel bad." "Brilliant." They stared at each other across the table, two professionals on the edge of their greatest caper. "When this is over," Bill said quietly, "we never speak of it." "Agreed. Now go practice your balloon sword. We need you sharp." Bill stood, pocketed the jerky, and headed for the door. He paused. "Molly?" "Yeah?" "We're stealing from children." "We're stealing from their parents. The children won't even notice. They'll be too busy crying about musical chairs." Bill considered this, nodded once, and disappeared into the night.