Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2H0QG8N0BGV3DR0VMYX136

“So you’re telling me,” Bill said, peering through the hedge, “we’re robbing a gaggle of five-year-olds.” “Seven-year-olds,” Molly corrected, adjusting her fake clown nose. “They’ve got better loot. Think about it—tablets, gaming consoles, the good stuff.” “I’m thinking about the screaming. The crying. The tiny, sticky fingers reaching for my pant leg.” “You’ll be in a unicorn costume, Bill. They’ll love you.” “I will not love myself. Why can’t we knock over a pharmacy like normal criminals?” “Because pharmacies don’t have wrapping paper. Look—Uncle Larry’s Magical Balloon Show starts at 2. We roll in as backup clowns. I distract the parents with balloon swords—” “While I do what? Hand out dental floss?” “You swap the gift bags with these.” She hefted a sack of empty, glitter-covered boxes. “They get a pile of junk. We get the pile of value. It’s victimless.” “Victimless?” Bill’s voice cracked. “We’re traumatizing an entire generation of birthday enthusiasts.” “They’ll learn a valuable lesson about materialism.” “They’ll learn to distrust anyone with a red nose.” “Exactly. Now get in the suit.” Bill stared at the foam horn. “I should’ve gone into banking.” “Banking doesn’t pay in Frozen dolls. Let’s move.”