Run: 2026-05-29-01KSSJEQ9DSRR3CYA3FYG7VA73

Molly spread the blueprint across the table, smoothing it flat with both hands. "Okay, Bill, focus. The Hendersons' backyard. The presents are stacked here, on the gift table, right next to the bouncy castle." Bill leaned over the paper, squinting. "Why is there a clown drawn in the corner?" "That's not a clown. That's me. I'm wearing a disguise." "You drew yourself as a clown." "It's a strategic disguise, Bill. Nobody suspects the clown." "Everybody suspects the clown. Clowns are inherently suspicious." Molly slapped the table. "Can we please stay on target? The party starts at two. Cake at two-thirty. That's our window." "During cake?" Bill scratched his head. "That seems cruel. Stealing presents from a child while she's eating cake." "That's the genius of it. Sugar makes them sluggish. Distracted. A room full of frosted toddlers is the perfect cover." "What's the kid's name again?" "Tabitha. She's turning six." Bill winced. "Six. That's a tough age, Molly. You really wanna be the reason little Tabitha cries herself to sleep?" "She's rich, Bill. Look at this house. She's got a pony. A six-year-old does not need a pony and forty presents." "How do you know there's forty?" "I counted the RSVPs. I hacked the Evite." Bill stared at her. "You hacked a children's birthday invitation." "It wasn't hard. The password was 'Tabitha123.'" "That's a terrible password." "She's six, Bill, what do you want from her?" Bill sighed and tapped the blueprint. "Alright, alright. So I go in as what? The magician?" "No, you're the entertainment's assistant. You wheel in the supply cart, we load the presents under the tablecloth, and we walk out." "The supply cart." Bill nodded slowly. "And the actual magician?" "There is no magician. We are the magician." "So when the kids ask for a magic trick—" "You do a magic trick, Bill!" "I can't do magic trick!" "Pull a coin out of an ear or something! Improvise!" Bill folded his arms. "Last time I improvised, we got chased through a farmers market by a man with a baguette." "That baguette situation was not my fault." "You told him you were the cheese inspector!" "And he believed me!" Molly threw up her hands. "That's called confidence, Bill. That's the difference between a professional and a guy who panics." Bill went quiet, then pointed at the blueprint again. "What about the parents?" "Distracted. They'll all be filming Tabitha blow out candles. Phones up, backs turned. We've got ninety seconds." "And the dog?" Molly froze. "What dog?" "They have a golden retriever. I saw it on the Evite photos. Big fella. Name's Biscuit." "...Biscuit wasn't in my plan." Bill smiled, victorious. "See? This is why we case the joint properly. We need to neutralize Biscuit." "We're not hurting a dog, Bill." "I'm not hurting him! I'm bringing him a steak. Befriend the asset." Molly considered this, then nodded. "Okay. That's actually smart." "I have my moments." Bill rolled up the blueprint. "So. Clown suit's in the car?" "Clown suit's in the car." "God help us."