Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0GA5PMV4K3SP0HFNQKNQFF

Molly unrolled the blueprint across the sticky diner table, pinning the corners down with ketchup bottles. Bill squinted at it, unimpressed. "That's a placemat, Molly." "It's a reconnaissance document. I drew the bouncy castle in crayon for tactical reasons." Bill sipped his coffee. "We're really doing this? Robbing an eight-year-old?" "Her name is Chelsea, and her father is a hedge fund manager. That kid's getting an iPad, a pony, and possibly a small yacht." "A yacht won't fit in the van." "Then we leave the yacht, Bill. Focus." He tapped the napkin. "What about the clown?" "What about him?" "Clowns see everything. It's the makeup. Gives 'em a thousand-yard stare." Molly leaned in, lowering her voice. "I'll handle Bingo. You grab the gift table, dump everything in the hamper, and roll out the back gate by three-fifteen." "And the parents?" "Distracted. There's a magician named Marvelous Gary doing card tricks at three." Bill exhaled slowly. "I have a bad feeling about Marvelous Gary." "Everyone has a bad feeling about Marvelous Gary. That's his whole brand." She folded the placemat and tucked it into her jacket. Bill stared into his coffee, mourning his dignity.