Run: 2026-05-29-01KSSJW98SEGBNQ349AA48D8W4

Molly spread the crayon-drawn map across the kitchen table and smoothed it flat with surgical precision. "Okay," she said. "The objective is simple. We get in, we grab the presents, we get out. Estimated haul: forty gift bags and one suspiciously large box." Bill peered at the map, frowning. "Why is there a clown drawn on this?" "That's not a clown. That's the security threat. His name is Giggles and he's working the party from two to four." "You scouted a clown?" "I scout everything, Bill. That's why I'm the brains of this operation." Bill sat back and crossed his arms. "I thought I was the brains." "You're the muscle." "I weigh a hundred and forty pounds." "You're the *aspirational* muscle." Molly tapped the map. "Now focus. The party's at the Hendersons'. Backyard bouncy castle, a piñata, and approximately fifteen children hopped up on sugar and rage." Bill swallowed. "Fifteen?" "Children are unpredictable. They travel in packs. They have no fear and tiny, grabbing hands." She produced a second drawing. "This is our entry point. We come in disguised as the entertainment." "As clowns?" "As a magician and his assistant." Bill brightened. "Do I get a cape?" "You get a cape." "I'm in." Molly rolled up the map. "Here's how it plays. I distract the parents with a card trick. You slip into the gift pile, load everything into the magic trunk, and we wheel it out the front. Nobody suspects the magic trunk. That's the beauty of the magic trunk." "And if a kid sees me?" "You say it's part of the show. Children believe anything if you say it loud and confidently." Bill nodded slowly, absorbing this wisdom. "What about the suspiciously large box?" "That," Molly said gravely, "is the prize. Probably a bike. Could be a pony." "Nobody gives a kid a pony at a birthday party." "The Hendersons are show-offs, Bill. Keep up." He leaned in. "And the cake? Do we take the cake?" "We do not take the cake." "Why not?" "Because we're thieves, not animals." She paused. "Also it's hard to fence a sheet cake." Bill considered this. "Fair." Molly stood and began pacing, the way she always did when the plan was nearing completion. "Two o'clock, we arrive. Two-fifteen, the card trick. Two-twenty, you load the trunk. Two-thirty, we're gone, and the only thing left is fifteen crying children and a clown with no audience." "It's almost beautiful," Bill said. "It's a masterpiece of crime." "One question." "Shoot." He raised a tentative hand. "Do we actually know any magic tricks?" Molly froze. Her pacing stopped. A long, terrible silence filled the kitchen. "I can do the one where the coin disappears," she said finally. "Can you make it come back?" "...No." Bill exhaled. "So we're stealing presents *and* a coin." "It's a victimless crime if you don't count the children." "And the coin's original owner." "And the coin's original owner," she agreed. She extended her hand. "Partner?" Bill shook it. "Partner. I really want that cape."