Run: 2026-05-29-01KSSJZS3BC6E220CA2T8230VV

Molly spread the crayon-drawn map across the table, smoothing it flat with her palm. "Okay, so the perimeter is guarded by what's-his-name, the clown," she said. "Bongo." "Bongo the Magnificent," Bill corrected. "He's not magnificent, Bill. He does balloon animals." "He does an *incredible* giraffe. I've seen footage." Molly stared at him. "Where does one acquire footage of a children's party clown?" "Don't worry about it." Bill leaned over the map. "Point is, Bongo's the only real threat. The rest are six-year-olds hopped up on cake." "Which is exactly why this is dangerous," Molly said. "Sugar makes them unpredictable. One minute they're crying, the next they're biting your ankles." "So we go in fast. Through here." Bill tapped a scribbled rectangle. "The patio doors." "Those are French doors." "They're patio doors with delusions of grandeur. I can pick them in nine seconds." "And the presents?" "Stacked by the cake table. Gift bags, wrapped boxes, the works. We grab the lot, out the back, into the van." Bill grinned. "Easiest hundred grand we'll ever make." Molly frowned. "How is a pile of presents worth a hundred grand?" "Have you *seen* what kids get these days? Tablets. Smartwatches. There's a rumor the birthday boy's getting a pony." "We are not stealing a pony, Bill." "I'm just saying, if there's a pony—" "We don't have a pony plan!" "I always have a pony plan." Bill pulled a second piece of paper from his jacket. It was, in fact, a detailed pony plan. Molly pressed her fingers to her temples. "Let's focus. What about the parents?" "Distracted. There's a piñata at three o'clock. Maximum chaos. Nobody's watching the loot when there's free candy raining from the ceiling." "And our exit if it goes wrong?" "Disguises." Bill reached into a duffel bag and produced two enormous foam costumes. Molly's mouth fell open. "Are those... Teletubbies?" "Nobody questions a Teletubby at a kid's party. We blend in. We walk out. We disappear." "I am not wearing the purple one." "Fine, you're the green one." "I don't *want* to be the green one either, Bill! I want to be a thief with my dignity intact!" "Dignity doesn't pay the bills, Molly. Tinky Winky does." She slumped back in her chair. "I cannot believe my life has come to robbing toddlers in a foam suit." "Hey." Bill placed a hand on her shoulder, suddenly tender. "We robbed a casino last year. A *casino*, Molly. And we got nothing because you insisted on tipping the dealer." "He was a single father!" "This is redemption. This is us getting back on top. And all we have to do is outsmart a clown and some kids in party hats." Molly looked at the map. At the pony plan. At the green Teletubby costume. "If Bongo so much as touches me," she said quietly, "I will not be responsible for my actions." Bill smiled and zipped up the bag. "That's my girl. Now grab your antenna. We've got a party to crash."