Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2F1VHZY1NCFCH6SK03QPK2

The van smelled like stale coffee and regret. Molly was sprawled across the passenger seat, peering through a pair of binoculars at the inflatable castle bobbing in the distance. “Okay, Bill. Talk to me. What’s the vibe?” she asked. Bill, crouched in the back, adjusted a clown wig that was three sizes too small. “Vibe is… aggressive. There’s a woman with a face like a slapped ham handing out juice boxes. She’s guarding the table.” “The gift table?” “The gift table,” Bill confirmed. “And it’s not just any gift table. It’s a mountain of glitter and bad parenting. I saw a Remote Control T-Rex wrapped in dinosaur paper. That thing’s half our take right there.” Molly lowered the binoculars. “Half? Please. That’s a retirement fund right there. How do we get around Ham-Face?” Bill held up a spritz can. “I have a solution. It’s called ‘Smell My Fingers.’ ” “That’s not a plan, Bill. That’s a prank from a cereal box.” “It’s a distraction. I walk in, offer her a whiff of this,” he wiggled the can, “she gags, you scoop the presents into a bin bag, we rendezvous by the porta-potty. Simple.” “And what about the parents? The screaming kids? The tiny human with the fake lightsaber who keeps hitting himself in the face?” Bill shrugged. “We ignore the small one. He’s his own worst enemy. As for the parents, they’re all staring at their phones. They won’t notice a thing until the cake comes out.” Molly chewed her lip. “I don’t know. I feel like we’re missing a step. What if the T-Rex isn’t the real prize? What if under that dinosaur paper is a *Book*?” Bill recoiled. “A book? At a party? Who brings a book to a party? That’s sociopathic.” “Bill, we are literally planning to rob children.” “For their toys, Molly. There’s a code. A *Book* is just dead weight. It’s litter.” She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Fine. Fine. We do the Smell My Fingers gambit. But if Ham-Face has a black belt in juice-box distribution, I’m leaving you with the T-Rex and finding a bank. At least there’s dignity in armed robbery.” Bill grinned, his clown smile painted crooked. “Dignity is for people who can afford full-price presents. I’ve got a van full of jester hats and a dream. You ready?” Molly grabbed a trash bag. “No. But let’s go ruin some birthdays.”