Run: 2026-05-10-01KR90J3AVQKPXZ0NVN8PXS726

Molly tossed another pair of wire cutters into her canvas bag while Bill studied the crudely drawn map spread across the kitchen table. "We hit the place at eight-thirty sharp," she said. "Parents will still be inside setting up, kids distracted by the clown. The presents should be stacked near the back doors." Bill tapped the paper with a pencil. "Yeah, but what if they hired security? Last time we pulled a birthday gig they had an actual off-duty cop pretending to be a magician." Molly rolled her eyes and zipped the bag closed. "We improvise like always. You distract, I grab, we meet at the van." Bill frowned at the map again. "What about the dog? The invite said someone’s bringing a pony, but ponies bite." Molly snorted and shouldered the bag. "It’s not a real pony; it’s a plastic ride-on someone won at the fair. The only animal inside is going to be a sugar-crazed toddler and maybe a balloon animal. Focus, Bill." He scratched his jaw and finally looked up. "All right, but if any kid starts crying loud enough to wake the whole block, I’m out. We agreed—no collateral." Molly softened slightly and patted his shoulder. "They’ll just think we’re the entertainment leaving early. Nobody’s getting hurt, and we’ll be gone before cake." She moved to the counter where the walkie-talkies were charging and tested one with a soft click. "Channel three. Two minutes of chatter max once we’re inside." Bill repeated the number under his breath like a mantra. "Three. Got it." He folded the map into a neat square and tucked it into his jacket. "One more thing. What if the presents are already wrapped? People notice missing boxes faster when they’re shiny." Molly shrugged. "Then we swap them for the empty boxes in the hallway. The parents will think they forgot one bag in the car. Classic." Bill allowed himself a thin grin. "Classic you." She returned the grin, eyes bright with mischief, and headed for the door. "Last check," Molly said without turning. "You remember the route out?" Bill recited it while locking the apartment behind them: "Back door, side alley, left on Maple, van’s waiting by the pharmacy." They stepped into the stairwell together, footsteps echoing against concrete. Outside, late-afternoon sunlight glared off windshields and hinted at the long evening ahead. Molly paused at the curb to adjust her earpiece. "We do this quiet, we do this clean, and nobody ever links us to a stack of mangled birthday loot." Bill nodded once, already scanning the street for watchers. "Quiet and clean," he echoed, then opened the passenger door for her like any respectable gentleman about to rob a children’s party. The van’s engine turned over with a low growl, and the two thieves pulled away, their laughter drowned by traffic and the distant promise of cake.