Run: 2026-05-31-01KSYXRKNCAHTJ266Q4ZZK7ZN0

Molly spread the blueprint across the table, smoothing its wrinkled corners with theatrical precision. Bill leaned in, squinting at the crayon drawing. "This is a placemat from a pizza restaurant," he said. "It's reconnaissance, Bill. I drew it from memory." "You drew a dinosaur eating a slice of pepperoni." Molly snatched it back, offended. "That's the security guard. Now focus. The target is the Hendersons' backyard. Little Timmy turns seven on Saturday, and according to my sources, he's getting *spoiled*." Bill cracked his knuckles. "What's the take?" "Conservative estimate? Forty wrapped presents. We're talking action figures, art supplies, possibly a Nintendo Switch." She lowered her voice reverently. "And the piñata. Stuffed with candy." "The piñata's the prize?" "The piñata is *everything*, Bill." He nodded slowly, processing this. "So what's the plan? We rappel in? Cut the power?" "Better." Molly pulled a paper bag from beneath the table and dumped out two enormous, fuzzy costumes. "We go in as entertainment. I'll be Sparkles the Clown. You're my assistant, Mr. Wiggles." Bill stared at the costume, then at Molly, then back at the costume. "Why am I always the assistant?" "Because last time you were lead, you got us banned from a Chuck E. Cheese." "That was a misunderstanding!" "You headbutted an animatronic mouse, Bill." "It was *mocking* me." Molly held up a hand. "Water under the bridge. Now, here's the timeline. We arrive at noon. I distract the children with balloon animals while you load the gifts into the van, which will be disguised as an ice cream truck." Bill brightened. "Do we get to keep the ice cream?" "No." "Just one push pop?" "Bill, we are professionals." He sighed, slipping his arm into the costume sleeve. "I don't know about this one. Kids are unpredictable. Sticky. They scream." "Which is exactly why nobody will suspect us. Who robs a children's party?" "We do. Apparently." Molly clapped her hands together. "Exactly! It's the perfect crime. Now, contingency plans. If anyone gets suspicious, you create a diversion." "What kind of diversion?" "You make a balloon dog." Bill blinked. "That's the diversion?" "Have you ever seen a child resist a balloon dog? It's hypnotic. It's primal." "And if the balloon pops?" Molly's expression darkened. "Then we run. We run like the wind, Bill, and we never speak of the balloon dog again." He zipped up his costume, the giant red nose flopping comically. "I still think we're forgetting something." "Such as?" "The parents. The adults. The grown men who lift weights and won't appreciate two clowns stealing their kid's birthday haul." Molly paused, considering this for the first time. She glanced at the dinosaur on the placemat, then back at Bill. "That's why," she said slowly, "we bring cake." "Cake?" "Everyone trusts a clown bearing cake." Bill stared at her for a long moment. Then, against every instinct screaming inside him, he found himself nodding. "Alright," he said. "But I'm keeping one push pop." Molly smiled. "Deal."