Run: 2026-05-31-01KSYXM3EV5XTCY5QNZHCNAPM3

Molly spread the crayon-drawn map across the table and tapped it with authority. "Okay, Bill, focus. The target is a seventh birthday party. Theme is, and I quote the invitation we intercepted, 'Dinosaurs and Princesses.'" "That's two themes," Bill said. "That's chaos. No commitment." "Stay on mission. The presents will be stacked on a table here, by the bouncy castle." "A bouncy castle." Bill leaned back, crossing his arms. "Molly, I don't like bouncy castles. They're unstable. Untrustworthy. My cousin lost a tooth in one." "Nobody is asking you to enter the bouncy castle." "I'm just establishing my boundaries." "Noted. Now, the way I see it, we go in dressed as entertainers. You'll be the magician, I'll be the face painter." Bill's eyebrows shot up. "Why do you get to be the face painter?" "Because you can't draw, Bill. You tried to sketch the getaway route and it looked like a sad worm." "That worm had ambition." "The point is, while you distract the children with card tricks, I grab the presents and load them into the van disguised as the ice cream truck." "Wait." Bill held up a hand. "If we're an ice cream truck, the kids are going to want ice cream." Molly paused. "We give them ice cream. It enhances the cover." "With what money? We're stealing presents because we're broke!" "It's an investment, Bill." "You can't run a heist and a small business simultaneously!" "Lower your voice." Molly glanced at the window. "Now, the only real obstacle is the mother. Her name is Karen—" Bill snorted. "Of course it is." "—and she runs that household like a military operation. Snacks rotated every fifteen minutes. Goody bags inventoried. She will notice if presents go missing." "So what's the plan?" "We replace them. We bring decoy presents. Empty boxes wrapped beautifully. By the time anyone opens them, we're three counties away, eating gas-station nachos like kings." Bill considered this. "That's actually... not terrible." "Don't sound so surprised." "I'm just saying, usually your plans involve more crying. Mine or yours." "This plan is foolproof." Molly straightened. "There is only one variable I can't control." "Which is?" "The clown." Bill froze. "There's a clown?" "Karen hired a professional. Goes by 'Mr. Giggles.' Allegedly very territorial about his audience." "Molly, I am not getting into a turf war with a clown." "You won't have to, as long as you stick to balloon animals and don't oversell the magic." "What if he challenges me?" "Then you challenge him back. You're a professional. Sort of." Bill stood, suddenly resolute. "You know what? Fine. Let's do it. For the presents. For the nachos." "For the nachos," Molly agreed. "One question." "Yes?" "Can I keep one present? Just one. The big shiny one." Molly stared at him for a long moment. "You want a child's toy." "I want to feel something, Molly." She sighed, rolling up the crayon map. "Fine. One present. But if it's a doll, I'm telling everyone." "Deal."