Run: 2026-07-01-01KWE9FFEBWTZJ1A3906WJ6TZZ

The back room of Bill's van smelled like stale coffee and regret. Molly spread a crumpled birthday invitation across a pizza box, tapping it with a highlighter like it was a blueprint for Fort Knox. "Okay," she said. "Cody's turning seven. Superhero theme. Party's at two." Bill squinted at the invitation. "Cody. Who names their kid Cody." "Focus, Bill." "I'm focused. I'm just saying, if I ever have a kid, I'm naming him something respectable. Like Bartholomew." "You're not having kids, Bill. You once cried because a vending machine ate your dollar." "That machine owed me a Snickers." Molly rubbed her temples. "The presents will be stacked on the table by the cake. We go in disguised, we grab the bag, we're out before anyone notices." "Disguised as what?" "Clowns." Bill stared at her. "Clowns. At a superhero party." "Kids love clowns." "Kids are *terrified* of clowns, Molly, that's, like, a documented fact. There's a whole Stephen King book about it." "Fine. Superheroes, then. We dress as superheroes." "Which ones?" "I don't know, pick one." "I've always wanted to be Batman." "You don't have the jaw for Batman." "Excuse me?" "You have a very *soft* jawline, Bill. It's not an insult, it's bone structure." "I'll have you know women find my jaw very—" "We don't have time for your jaw's dating history. Pick a different hero." Bill crossed his arms. "Fine. I'll be Aquaman." "Nobody's scared of Aquaman." "We're not trying to scare anyone! We're trying to *blend in!*" "Right, but we also need authority. Gravitas. Someone the parents trust enough to let near the presents." "So... what, you're gonna be Wonder Woman?" Molly straightened, suddenly proud. "Obviously." "You don't have the arms for Wonder Woman." "Excuse me?!" "I'm just saying, those bracelets require *definition,* Molly." "Say that again and I will end you before this heist even starts." Bill raised his hands. "Just an observation!" Molly exhaled sharply, forcing herself back to the plan. "Okay. New approach. We don't dress as heroes. We dress as caterers. Nobody questions caterers." "I don't know how to caterer." "You just carry trays and look mildly annoyed. You already do that." "That's rude and accurate." "We walk in, we grab the presents under the guise of 'gift table maintenance,' we walk out. Clean. Simple. No capes." Bill considered this, tapping his chin. "What if one of the presents is, like, a bike. That's not subtle, Molly. That's not a 'slip it in a bag' scenario." "Then you carry the bike." "Like it's a tray?" "Like it's a tray, Bill." He sighed, staring at the ceiling of the van as though searching for strength. "You know, when I got into a life of crime, I pictured jewels. Yachts. Not doilies and juice boxes." Molly patted his shoulder. "Welcome to the big leagues, Aquaman."