Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1GPMW4FAY662GBEEYN55Q5

Molly crouched behind the bouncy castle, binoculars trained on the back garden. Inside, a sugar-fueled army of seven-year-olds shrieked at a magician in a sequined vest. Bill shuffled up beside her, clutching a napkin of scribbles he called "the blueprint." "Right," Molly whispered. "Cake, balloons, twenty rugrats. What's our entry point?" "Clown." Bill held up a red nose from his pocket. "Distraction suit." "You look like a sad accountant in that thing." Bill sniffed. "I look whimsical. Children love whimsy." "Children love sugar highs. Not your face." She elbowed him. "New plan. You lob jelly beans at the magician. I wiggle through the gift table." "What if there's a guard dog?" "There's a labradoodle named Buttons." "Labradoodles bite." "Labradoodles file complaints. Not lawsuits." Molly cracked her knuckles. "By 4pm, every present is in the van. By 4:15, we're in Barbados." "And if the mom catches us?" "We hand her wine and wish the kid happy birthday." Bill brightened. "You, Molly, are a criminal genius." "I'm a birthday party criminal genius." She pocketed the nose and crept toward the gate. "Now suit up. Time to ruin a child's memories." He pulled the nose on with grave dignity. Somewhere inside, Buttons barked once and accepted cake. The heist was afoot.