Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1H2JWZR9CYTGDJSTMH88SP

Molly spread the blueprint across the table, smoothing out the wrinkles with the reverence of a surgeon. "Behold," she said. "The Henderson residence. Site of one Timmy Henderson's seventh birthday party." Bill leaned in, squinting. "Why is the blueprint drawn in crayon?" "Because I had to blend in at the reconnaissance. You try casing a joint surrounded by toddlers without arts and crafts." "Fair." He tapped the paper. "So what's the plan?" "We infiltrate during the magician's act. Nobody watches the present pile when there's a man pulling rabbits out of a hat." "I hate magicians." "Everyone hates magicians, Bill. That's why it's the perfect cover." She slid a photograph toward him. "This is our target. Mountain of gift-wrapped boxes, estimated value—" "Forty dollars?" "Don't be cynical. There could be a Nintendo in there." Bill picked up the photo and frowned. "Molly, that's a clown." "That's our second obstacle. Bingo the Clown. Hired security, basically. He never leaves the snack table." "So we neutralize the clown." "We do not neutralize the clown." Molly snatched the photo back. "We distract him. With cake." "What if he doesn't want cake?" "Everyone wants cake, Bill. That's basic human psychology." "Clowns aren't human. They're a separate, terrifying species." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "Can we please focus? Now, I'll go in disguised as Aunt Linda. Nobody knows what Aunt Linda looks like because she lives in Phoenix." "And me?" "You're the entertainment. Balloon animals." Bill stood up so fast his chair toppled. "Absolutely not. I don't do balloons." "You did three years for stealing balloons!" "That was helium tanks, and you know it." He crossed his arms. "There's a difference between grand theft inflation and twisting a poodle for a four-year-old." "It's a disguise!" "It's humiliating!" Molly took a deep breath. "Bill. Sweetheart. Light of my criminal career. We have rent due Friday and a fence who wants his cut. We are stealing presents from a child." "When you say it out loud it sounds bad." "It is bad. We're thieves. That's the job." She set a hand on his shoulder. "Now. Can you make a balloon dog or not?" He sighed. "I can make a balloon snake." "A snake is just a balloon you gave up on." "It's abstract art." "Fine. You're an abstract balloon artist." She rolled up the blueprint. "We go in at two o'clock. Magician starts the rabbit trick, clown gets distracted by cake, we grab the presents, out the back by the bouncy castle." "And if something goes wrong?" "What could possibly go wrong at a seven-year-old's birthday party?" Bill stared at her. "You said that before the petting zoo job." "The petting zoo job was a learning experience." "I still have the scar." "Goats are unpredictable, Bill. Nobody could have foreseen that." She extended her hand. "So. Are we doing this?" He looked at the crayon blueprint, then at her, then sighed and shook her hand. "For the record," he said, "if there's a piñata, I'm taking it." "Obviously. The candy's untraceable."