Run: 2026-07-01-01KWE95NF97DKKMGYA5730T47E

The warehouse smelled like stale popcorn and desperation, which felt about right for two professional thieves reduced to planning a heist against a seven-year-old's birthday party. Molly spread the blueprints across the folding table, her finger tracing the layout of the Hendricksons' backyard like she was planning a bank job instead of a bounce house robbery. "Bill, look at this. Presents table is right here, next to the cake. Twenty-three gifts, minimum. That's a Tuesday's rent right there." Bill leaned over, squinting. "Is that a bounce castle in the corner?" "Focus." "I am focused. I'm focused on the bounce castle. Molly, there's gonna be children. Small, screaming children who bounce." "So we go in during the piñata distraction. Everyone's looking up, swinging bats, chaos everywhere—" "Chaos with children holding bats." "—and we slip in the side gate, grab the presents, slip out. Fifteen minutes, tops." Bill crossed his arms. "You want me to steal birthday presents from a kid named Tyler." "Tyler's rich, Bill. Look at this invitation—embossed lettering. His parents own a chain of dry cleaners. That kid doesn't need a Nintendo Switch, a bicycle, and whatever's in that suspiciously heavy box wrapped in dinosaur paper." "What if it's homework." "Nobody wraps homework." Bill picked up the invitation, turning it over like it might reveal a hidden trap. "Says here there's a clown." "So?" "So clowns notice things, Molly. It's their whole profession. Noticing balloon animals, noticing pratfalls, noticing two grown adults stuffing presents into a duffel bag." "We'll be in costumes." "What costumes?" Molly reached under the table and produced two crumpled outfits with theatrical pride. "Ta-da." Bill stared. "These are dinosaur costumes." "Perfect for a party! Nobody questions a dinosaur." "Molly, I can't see out of this thing. There's one eyehole and it's positioned somewhere near my forehead." "Character detail." "I'm going to walk into the cake." "Then we'll steal the cake too." Bill set down the costume slowly, like it had personally offended him. "We're not stealing a seven-year-old's birthday cake." "Fine. Presents only. But we're doing this Saturday, during the pin the tail on the donkey portion. Statistically the most distracted three minutes of any children's party." "You have statistics for this?" "I have experience, Bill. I ran a similar op in Cleveland." "You stole presents from a kid in Cleveland?" "I stole trophies from a bowling banquet. Same principle. Distracted adults, unattended valuables, my quick hands." Bill pulled the dinosaur head over his own, voice muffling instantly. "If I get caught wearing this and explaining myself to a clown, I'm telling them this was your idea." "It was my idea." "Good. Consistency matters in interrogation." Molly zipped her own costume, tail dragging against the concrete floor. "Saturday. Two o'clock. Operation Birthday Blitz." "That's a terrible name." "You come up with something better." Bill considered this through his single eyehole. "Operation Tyler's Tears?" "We're not naming it after his suffering, Bill." "Fine. Operation Dinosaur Heist." "There we go."