Run: 2026-05-20-01KS25WDT7S8RCYPX28M2XTEVT

We have exactly four minutes once the bounce house goes up, Molly said, tapping her finger against a crudely drawn map of the backyard. That is the diversion. Bill squinted at the paper, adjusting his black ski mask which was currently bunching up around his ears. Why is the bounce house the diversion? Kids love bounce houses. They will be trapped inside it. Exactly, Molly said, rolling her eyes. They will be trapped in a state of gelatinous euphoria. The parents will be distracted by the safety hazard of forty sugar-loaded seven-year-olds leaping in unison. That is when we strike the gift table. I still think the clown disguise was a better play, Bill muttered. I bought the balloon animals, Molly. I practiced. I can make a sword. A slightly deflated sword, but a sword nonetheless. No clowns, Bill, Molly snapped. You have a fear of face paint and we both know you would end up crying in the ball pit. Now, focus. The target is the pile of wrapped boxes next to the juice box fountain. Is it a fountain of actual juice? Bill asked, his eyes widening. Like, cascading Capri Sun? It is irrelevant, Molly said. What is relevant is the haul. Little Timmy’s grandmother is loaded. We are talking high-end Lego sets, pristine gaming consoles, and possibly a motorized miniature sports car. We need a clean sweep. How do we carry a motorized sports car over a six-foot cedar fence? Bill asked. We drive it, Bill. We drive it through the flower beds. But we do not have the keys, he pointed out. It is a toddler’s toy, Bill! It operates on a giant red button. You do not need to hotwire a Barbie Dream Camper. Right, right, Bill said, nodding solemnly. Good planning. What about the guard? What guard? Molly frowned, looking at her map. There is no guard. The golden retriever, Bill said, pointing out the window toward the yard. He looks vigilant. He is currently chewing on a plastic lightsaber, but his eyes are cold, Molly. Cold and calculating. I brought a decoy steak, Molly sighed, pulling a slightly crushed ribeye from her pocket. Is that seasoned? Bill asked. Of course it is seasoned, I am not a monster, Molly said. Now, once the bounce house inflated blower starts, we scale the fence. You take the north side of the table, I take the south. We bag the loot in the heavy-duty sacks. What if there is a pinata? Bill asked suddenly. What about it? If there is a pinata, we should wait for the candy drop, Bill said earnestly. Free Snickers, Molly. It is a tactical acquisition. We are professional thieves, Bill, not trick-or-treaters, Molly hissed. We do not delay a high-stakes heist for fun-sized chocolate. It is peanut butter M&Ms, Molly. Think about the overhead. No, Molly said. We stick to the plan. Guard dog gets the steak, kids get the bounce house, we get the Lego. Are we clear? Bill sighed, adjusting his mask again. Clear. But if I see a red velvet cupcake, I am taking it. Fine, Molly said, checking her watch. Sync watches. Three, two, one... go.