Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1HHK7DK27EKS0252BKTGZK

Molly spread the blueprint across the table, smoothing its wrinkled corners. "The bounce house is our blind spot. No cameras, no parents, just chaos." Bill squinted at the diagram. "And the presents?" "Stacked by the gift table. Unguarded after cake time." "Cake time," Bill repeated, nodding slowly. "When's that?" "Two o'clock. Right after the magician." He frowned. "There's a magician?" "Focus, Bill." Molly tapped the paper. "We slip in dressed as clowns. Nobody questions clowns at a birthday party." "I hate clowns," Bill muttered. "They give me hives." "You'll survive." She handed him a red foam nose. "Put this on." He held it like a dead mouse. "This is undignified." "Stealing from eight-year-olds isn't?" Bill considered this. "Fair point." "We grab the gifts, stuff them in the piñata bag, and walk out the back." "What about the piñata?" Molly paused. "What about it?" "Won't somebody notice it's full of PlayStations instead of candy?" She stared at him. "That's... actually a problem." "I have my moments." "Fine. We use garbage bags." She rolled up the blueprint triumphantly. "By three o'clock, we'll be rich, and forty children will be crying." Bill smiled, slipping on the nose. "Now that's a happy birthday."