Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1HV3Z25PDPSCX9HJWNW92V

Bill adjusted his novelty Groucho Marx glasses in the rearview mirror and turned to his partner in crime. "So, are we really doing this? A children's birthday party? That's a new low, even for us." Molly snorted, pulling her hair into a tight bun beneath a baseball cap. "Bill, we stole a live turkey from a police station on Thanksgiving. There's no 'low' left for us. We're already in the basement of low." "That was actually pretty impressive," Bill admitted, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. "The turkey union still sends me Christmas cards." "Focus." Molly slapped a blueprint onto the dashboard. It was clearly drawn on the back of a Happy Meal bag. "The Henderson kid is turning seven. There will be at least forty wrapped presents, all in one location, all unattended during the piñata chaos." "Piñata chaos?" "It's a thing, Bill. I've done the research. Adults lose all rational thought when candy starts falling from the sky. It's like a feeding frenzy at SeaWorld, but with more screaming children and diabetes." Bill squinted at the McDonald's logo on the corner of the blueprint. "Did you draw this on a McDonald's bag?" "Steaksauce extra value meal. We don't have the budget for proper plotting paper, Bill. The man who buys our disguises out of the back of his van doesn't take American Express." "What about the costumes?" Molly grinned, revealing a set of plastic vampire fangs. "I'm going as a clown who got lost on the way to a different party. You're going as..." She handed him a frilly pink dress. "No." "Bill. You have the legs for it." "I most certainly do not." "Every man has the legs for it if he believes in himself." She patted his knee. "You'll be Mrs. Butterworth. I'll be the clown. We'll walk right in, compliment the cake, and wait for the piñata to start spinning. Once the parents dive for the floor like they're dodging mortar fire, we grab the presents and leave through the bounce house." "The bounce house?" "Emergency exit. I've tested it. You just sort of... roll." Bill sighed and held up the dress. "If anyone from my book club sees me in this, I'm blaming you." "Bill, you don't have a book club." "I'm starting one. And the first book we're reading is about dignity and self-respect." Molly started the engine. "We'll have plenty of time for self-respect after we're living large in a condo paid for by Hot Wheels and gift cards to Build-A-Bear." "Build-a-Bear," Bill whispered reverently. "Do you know how much those gift cards go for on the black market?" "Enough to buy a lot of dignity, Bill. Enough to buy all the dignity."