Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1GN94KNJ6YSQQ485E2X4MJ

The van smelled of stale crisps and regret, which Molly had come to consider the official perfume of a life of crime. Outside, the rain tapped politely against the windscreen like a butler who knew he was unwelcome. She turned to her partner and immediately reconsidered every choice that had led her to this moment. "Bill, are you wearing a clown suit?" "What? No! It's a tactical infiltration outfit." "It has a red nose on it." "That's for distraction purposes." Molly reached for coffee that had gone cold three hours ago, a habit that perfectly mirrored her enthusiasm for the job. "You're wearing a clown suit to rob a children's party. Of course you are. Why wouldn't you be?" "Technically it's a jester suit. Got it off the internet. The reviews were excellent." "What did the reviews say?" "One star. Man named Gerald. Very upset. But I'm sure he was being unreasonable." She closed her eyes, briefly considering a career in accounting. "Walk me through the plan, Bill. Slowly. As if explaining to a particularly tired golden retriever." He puffed out his chest, which in a jester suit looked deeply undignified. "Phase one. I arrive as hired entertainment." "You're the entertainment?" "I am wildly entertaining." "You once made a security guard weep by reading him his own employee handbook." "He was misinterpreting section four! It's a hostile work environment when you call Sandra 'a menace to paperwork.' Anyway, phase two: I herd the children into the bouncy castle." "And then?" "Then I distract them. With joy. Possibly juggling." "The parents, Bill." "Right. Parents. Hm." He scratched the jester hat. "What about them?" "They'll be filming the cake. Six minutes minimum. That's our window." Molly produced a napkin, on which she had drawn something that, in a very generous light, could be called a floor plan. "Living room. Presents behind the sofa. Wrapped in shiny paper. Names on the tags." "Looks like a dog drew it." "Architect dog. Rules. We do not touch the cake." "Why?" "Because last time you ate the evidence and we had to flee in the bouncy castle." "It was a very nice bouncy castle." "It was a rental. They want eight hundred pounds. They've described it as 'emotionally haunted,' Bill. I don't know what that means and I don't want to." "I didn't scream at it. I shouted near it." "You screamed at it while dressed as a wizard." "Emotionally!" She folded the napkin with the cold efficiency of a woman who had once orchestrated a diamond heist in Prague and now found herself negotiating with a man in tights. "One more rule. We do not befriend the birthday child." "What if she's nice?" "Especially then. Last time a child gave you a drawing and you cried for an hour." "She drew me as a wizard. It was moving." "You don't have a beard, Bill." "I could." "No you couldn't. Get in the van." He straightened his hat, dignity returning. "Best partners." "Bill." "Best, best partners." "Get in the van before I leave you in the bouncy castle." "Romantically or—" "In the van. Now."