Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2J0813A6XQ3C7G2D7YHRVD

“I still don’t understand why we’re stealing from six-year-olds,” Bill said, adjusting the straps on his utility belt. It was neon green with cartoon dinosaurs printed on it, because that was the only kind of belt the party supply store had in stock. “Because their presents are right out in the open, Bill. No security system. No alarm. Just a pile of brightly wrapped loot and a bunch of adults who are too busy chugging lukewarm punch to notice us.” Molly pulled a pair of oversized novelty glasses from her jacket. “I got us these. They’re the kind that have a big rubber nose and a fake mustache attached. Distraction 101.” “Those are clown glasses, Molly.” “They’re *disguises*. The theme for this party is ‘Under the Big Top.’ We’ll blend in.” Bill stared at her. “We’ll blend in as clowns? At a children’s party? Where the actual clown will be?” “There’s no actual clown. I called the mother. I pretended to be the entertainment coordinator for ‘Jolly Roger’s Jolly Jamboree.’ I told her that Roger had double-booked, so I was sending a pair of ‘trainees’ in his place. She was thrilled. Said Roger was a bit creepy with his giant shoes anyway.” “Roger’s not coming because *you* made him not come?” “Roger’s coming because I called his booking line and pretended to be the mother and canceled. He’s off the hook. We’re in.” Bill rubbed his temples. “Okay. So we get in. We juggle some beanbags. We make balloon animals. What’s step three?” “Balloon animals are for amateurs. I’m doing magic tricks. You’re doing slapstick. I’ll make a big show of ‘disappearing’ the presents into my sleeve. Everyone will applaud. We walk out with a trash bag full of gifts. We hit the next town. Small party. Same setup. We rinse and repeat until we have enough loot to buy an actual boat.” “An actual boat? What’s wrong with the blow-up pool you’ve been calling a yacht?” “It has a slow leak, Bill. I’m tired of waking up on the lawn.” Molly handed him a red foam nose. “Put this on. It adds five points to your charisma.” He slapped the nose onto his face with a soft *thwump*. “I look like a crime-pilled cherry.” “Perfect. Now, the target. The birthday girl is named Chloe. She’s turning seven. The party is in her backyard. There will be a bouncy castle, a piñata filled with organic gummy worms, and a gift table guarded by a Great Dane named Buster. I’ve got a decoy steak that squeaks. When I throw it, you grab the haul.” “The dog’s name is Buster? And you’re giving him a steak? That’s cruel, Molly. He’ll be heartbroken when it’s just rubber.” “He’ll be fine. He’ll have a new squeaky toy. We’ll have a new boat. Everyone wins.” “Except Chloe.” “Chloe will learn a valuable lesson about trusting clowns. That’s a life skill. Better now than at her wedding.” Bill sighed, long and heavy. “Fine. But if I have to make a balloon poodle, I’m walking.” “You won’t. You’ll be too busy stuffing gift bags into a trash liner while I distract them with a card trick. I’ll use the one where I pretend to read their minds.” “You can’t read minds.” “No, but I can read gift tags. ‘To Chloe, Love Grandma.’ That one goes. ‘From Uncle Dave—a unicorn night-light.’ That one goes too. The kid doesn’t need that many night-lights.” “What if we get caught?” “We won’t. Because you’ll be too good at your job. Now come on. The party starts in twenty minutes.” Molly tightened her fake mustache. “Remember: smile, wave, and if a kid asks you for a balloon sword, say you’re union. They’ll back off.” Bill groaned. “This is the dumbest heist we’ve ever done.” “That’s exactly why it’ll work,” she said, and opened the car door.