Run: 2026-05-31-01KSYXGJ8GSVCZR0BK0ETQENRP

Molly spread the crayon-drawn map across the table. "The target is Timmy Henderson's seventh birthday. Estimated haul: twenty presents, minimum." "Twenty?" Bill leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "What's the security situation?" "One clown, possibly intoxicated. Three overprotective mothers. And a piñata." "The piñata's a non-issue." "The piñata is always an issue, Bill." Molly tapped the map. "Remember the Wilson job?" Bill shuddered, rubbing his shoulder. "I still can't lift my arm above my head." "Exactly. So here's the plan. You go in dressed as Uncle Gary. Nobody questions Uncle Gary." "Why am I always the uncle?" "Because you have the face of a disappointing relative." Molly slid him a fake mustache. "I'll create a diversion at the bounce castle." "What kind of diversion?" "The catastrophic kind." Bill pressed the mustache to his lip. "And the extraction?" "Minivan. Side door. We're gone before they finish singing Happy Birthday." "That song's surprisingly long when sung by toddlers." "Which is precisely why it's our window." Molly stood, pulling on her sunglasses. "Any questions?" Bill examined himself in the mirror, adjusting the mustache. "Just one. Do we feel bad about this?" "They're seven, Bill. They won't even remember." He nodded solemnly. "For the children."