Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1HVD7DCQ6Z4SCB13Z1Q5GM

The back room of the pawn shop smelled like stale coffee and questionable decisions, which is exactly where Molly and Bill liked to do their planning. A single bulb swung overhead, casting shadows across the blueprints spread on the table. Outside, a delivery truck rumbled past, reminding them that somewhere in the city, children were already bouncing in castles and shrieking at clowns. "Clowns," Bill said, frowning at the paper. "There will definitely be clowns. Probably a magician. Definitely too many screaming children." "Children love clowns," Molly replied, adjusting her fake mustache. "Distraction, chaos, sugar highs. We'll be in and out before the cake is cut." Bill chewed his pencil. "What about security? Parents?" "Gone before the piñata breaks," Molly said. "I'm thinking grandparents. Free cake. Nobody questions grandma." He grinned. "I'm bringing my rubber chicken." "Your what?" "Distraction device. Squeaks convincingly." Molly rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I want the talking bear. The creepy one with the dead eyes." "Deal. Eleven o'clock." Their eyes met, and a beautiful, terrible understanding passed between them. Tomorrow, someone else's child would cry, and their truck would be full. "To chaos," Bill whispered. "To birthday cake," Molly replied.