Run: 2026-05-31-01KSYXDNCEW4E9MDQ3PT96EE4P

Molly spread the blueprints across the table, knocking over Bill's juice box. "Watch it," Bill grumbled, dabbing the wet paper with a napkin shaped like a dinosaur. "Focus. The party starts at two. We hit them during pin-the-tail." Bill squinted at the diagram. "Why is there a bounce castle marked as 'extraction point'?" "Because nobody suspects a man crawling out of a bounce castle," Molly said. "They will when I'm carrying forty presents." "That's why you wear the clown costume." Bill folded his arms. "I'm not wearing the clown costume." "Bill, we discussed this." "You discussed it. I screamed." Molly sighed and pointed at the floor plan. "The gifts are stacked here, by the cake. Single mother, distracted, thirty screaming children. It's the perfect storm." "It's a six-year-old's birthday." "Crime doesn't have an age limit." Bill picked at the dinosaur napkin. "What if they offer us cake?" "Then we take the cake too." "Molly, that's monstrous." "That's professional." He stared at her, then slowly nodded. "Fine. But I'm not doing the balloon animals." "You'll do whatever the disguise requires." "I can't even make a balloon dog!" "Then make a balloon disgrace," Molly snapped. "Just sell it." Bill reached for the clown wig, defeated.