Run: 2026-07-01-01KWE9FV8KNX53RJBJSYQMKK7F

The back room of Bill's apartment smelled like pizza boxes and desperation, which Molly figured was appropriate given their current career trajectory. "A kid's birthday party," she said, staring at the crayon-drawn map Bill had somehow acquired. "We've hit banks, Bill. Jewelry stores. Remember that yacht?" "The yacht was a disaster." "The yacht was a disaster because YOU forgot boats float on water and move." "That's not the point." Bill jabbed the map with a highlighter, leaving a neon streak across what appeared to be a bounce house. "The point is this kid, Tyler, is turning seven, and his parents apparently invited the entire tri-state area. We're talking forty, fifty presents minimum. iPads. Drones. Probably a hoverboard." "He's seven." "Rich kids get hoverboards at seven, Molly. Welcome to capitalism." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "How did you even get this map?" "I told his mom I was the balloon guy." "Are you the balloon guy?" "I could be the balloon guy. I watched a YouTube tutorial." Bill produced a single, sad-looking balloon animal from his jacket pocket. It might have been a dog. It might have been a tumor. "That's horrifying." "It's a dachshund." "Bill." "Look, the plan is simple. I go in as the balloon guy, you go in as—" "As what? I'm not wearing a costume." "Face painter." "I don't know how to paint faces." "You don't know how to make balloon animals either, and yet." Molly grabbed the map, scanning the crayon scrawl. There was a table labeled PRESENTS in bubble letters, right next to something that might have been a piñata or possibly a demonic goat. "This says there's a bouncy castle guarding the loot." "Not guarding. Adjacent to." "Adjacent to is basically guarding when it's full of sugar-crazed seven-year-olds who bite." "They don't bite." "Bill, children absolutely bite. It's like their only natural weapon besides screaming." "Fine. We avoid the bouncy castle. We go in, I distract with balloons, you distract with terrible face paint, we grab the presents during cake time when everyone's distracted by the candles." "That's it? That's the whole plan? 'Cake time'?" "Cake time is sacred, Molly. Nobody's watching presents during cake time. It's basic heist physics." "There's no such thing as heist physics." "There's absolutely heist physics. I invented it. Just now." Molly stared at him for a long moment, then at the sad balloon dachshund, then back at the crayon map with its ominous goat-piñata. "We're stealing from seven-year-olds." "We're stealing FOR ourselves. The seven-year-olds are just... logistically involved." "I hate that this is my life." "You said that about the yacht too." "The yacht was a disaster." "We've established the yacht was a disaster." Bill handed her a smaller stack of crayons. "Now. Practice your unicorns. We leave at three."