Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2F7B4PBEAWVJH2QWTXGGNN

Molly spread the blueprints across the sticky diner table. "Okay, Bill. The kid’s party runs from 2 to 5. We go in as 'Uncle Frank' and 'Fun Aunt Carol.'" Bill poked at a jelly doughnut. "Fun Aunt Carol? You hate children." "I hate losing," she said. "The gift table is by the bouncy castle. You create a diversion." "What kind of diversion?" "Pop the bouncy castle. Slowly. The kids will be furious. Parents will panic." Bill frowned. "I don't pop things. Last time I popped a piñata, a kid cried for an hour. I gave him my watch." "Fine. You drop the cake. I'll take the heat." "Drop the cake? That's war, Molly. Bakeries have feelings." "The baker won't be there, you softie. Just the grandma who spent forty dollars on a SpongeBob sheet cake." Bill sighed. "Why can't we steal something normal? Like purses." "Because we're artists, Bill. Artists don't steal wallets. We steal a unicorn-themed loot bag filled with candy and a third-party tablet. Swing by the driveway. I'll fake a sprained ankle." "You do a great sprain," Bill admitted. "I practice in the mirror. Now remember—if the birthday boy asks, we're celebrating your vasectomy. He won't know what it means, but the adults will be too awkward to question it." Bill nodded slowly. "This is why you're the mastermind."