Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1HEVSXDEMGEFM3606B9BCW

Molly adjusted the cat-eye mask perched on her forehead and tapped a manicured nail against the architectural blueprints. Bill, slumped in a swivel chair across from her, was busy assembling what appeared to be a high-powered water pistol filled with grape juice. You're not seriously bringing that, are you? Molly asked, eyeing the improvised weapon with the weary resignation of someone who had worked with the man for too many years. Bill looked up, wounded. It's grape. Kids love grape. It's a crime scene, Bill. Evidence. I'll wipe it down. He went back to tinkering. So what's the play? I've got us a birthday party, six-year-olds, magician booked, bounce castle, and a present table that's apparently groaning under the weight of regional gift-wrapping excess. Molly smoothed the plans flat and jabbed a finger at the backyard layout. The parents here are ruthless. They hired a clown who's actually a former police officer. Retired. Keeps him sharp. You think he'll recognize us? He recognized me at the grocery store last Tuesday. I was buying cat food, Bill. Cat food. Bill considered this gravely. We wear disguises. I'm already wearing a disguise. She gestured to her ensemble of cashmere and stealth. I'm a mother. You be the dad. Stand near the grill. Drink something from a can. Mutter about taxes. Bill scratched his chin. And the exit? Bounce castle. You deflate it from the inside, I grab the loot, and we roll it toward the fence like a very undignified hamster ball. He nodded slowly. And the magician? Pure misdirection. She flipped a page. Also, the magician is a real magician. Like, union card. Knows card tricks. So I figure we let him do the first twenty minutes, and by the time he's made a rabbit appear, we're halfway through the gift pile. Bill held up the grape pistol. Distraction. Distraction, she confirmed. What about the piñata? Molly paused. What about the piñata? It's full of candy. I mean, we're already there. Bill, focus. I'm just saying. Efficiency. She sighed and rolled the blueprints into a tight cylinder. Operation Birthday Surprise. Infiltration at two. Extraction by three. No fingerprints, no witnesses, and absolutely no taking the piñata. He raised the grape pistol in solemn salute. To crime. To crime, she echoed, and immediately confiscated the grape pistol.