Run: 2026-05-22-01KS86GH35RF3Q7BM4DMPHB84K

Molly unrolled the crayon blueprint across the sticky diner table, weighting the corners with heavy glass salt shakers. She tapped a smudged red circle near the drawn garage. "This is the primary drop zone. We breach the bouncy castle at exactly two fifteen." Bill squinted at the paper, adjusting his thick glasses while chewing on a cold french fry. He pointed at a yellow scribble. "Is that the pinata? Because I am not getting hit with a blindfolded stick again." Molly shook her head, sliding a sugar packet over the yellow shape to hide it from view. She leaned in closer. "That is the clown. We neutralize him before he makes any balloon animals." Bill dropped his fry, wiping greasy fingers on his dark pants. He looked genuinely terrified by the suggestion. "Neutralize? You mean kill a clown? I draw the line at murdering clowns, Molly." She rolled her eyes, pulling out a purple marker to circle the back patio doors. She drew a quick arrow. "I mean we trap him in the ball pit. Focus on the presents, Bill." Bill sighed, taking a long sip of his lukewarm milkshake. He set the tall glass down with a quiet thud. "Fine. But if a kid cries, I am handing out the emergency juice boxes." Molly ignored his complaint, tracing a route through the kitchen and ending at the living room. She tapped the final destination. "The gifts are stacked by the fireplace. We bag them and exit through the pet door." Bill stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open in sheer disbelief. He gestured wildly at his own broad shoulders. "I cannot fit through a pet door. I am a grown man, Molly." She smiled, folding the crayon drawing neatly into squares and slipping it into her jacket pocket. She stood up. "Then you better start doing yoga, because we leave in ten minutes." Molly paused, pulling the folded paper back out to check the small back yard. She traced a small brown paw print. "Yoga will not shrink my skeleton. Also, what about the dog? You did not mention a dog on the blueprint." Bill crossed his arms, shaking his head very slowly. "She leaned across the table, lowering her voice to a very harsh whisper." "The dog is a golden retriever. He is completely harmless. Just throw him a tennis ball and keep walking." Molly tapped the table twice, emphasizing her absolute criminal authority. "A golden retriever will bark. Then the parents will wake up from their nap and catch us stealing toy blocks." "We are professionals. We steal the blocks, the video games, and the giant stuffed bear. Do not lose focus." Bill grabbed his jacket and stood up slowly. "Fine. But if I get bitten, I am taking the biggest present for myself as medical compensation." "Just grab the bear and keep your mouth shut." "I hate birthdays." "Me too, Bill. I really hate them." "Let us go right now before I change my mind."