Run: 2026-07-01-01KWE9YG2VX2N218PCQ41TJQP4

The rain hammered against the window of the Rusty Spoon Diner as Molly spread the blueprints across the table, knocking over a ketchup bottle in the process. Bill caught it just before it rolled off the edge. "A five-year-old's birthday party," Bill said, staring at the crayon drawing Molly had somehow acquired. "You want us to rob a five-year-old's birthday party." "Not just any birthday party, Bill. The Hendersons throw the biggest bash in three counties. We're talking bounce houses, a professional clown, and presents. So many presents." Molly's eyes sparkled with the kind of greed usually reserved for bank vaults. "I heard little Tommy Henderson got a PlayStation 5 last year and never even opened the box." "That's just sad." "That's just opportunity." Bill rubbed his temples. He'd been doing this long enough to know when Molly had that look, the one that meant they were about to do something either brilliant or catastrophically stupid. Usually both. "So what's the plan? We just walk in wearing ski masks and start grabbing gift bags?" "Give me some credit." Molly pulled two costumes from a duffel bag. One was a slightly moth-eaten clown suit. The other was, inexplicably, a giant inflatable dinosaur. "Absolutely not." "Bill, nobody questions clowns at a birthday party. It's literally their job to be there." "And the dinosaur?" "Kids love dinosaurs." "I am not wearing an inflatable T-Rex costume to rob toddlers." "It's not robbing, it's *redistributing*. Rich kid gets fifty presents, opens three, forgets the rest exist by Tuesday. We're basically doing charity work." Bill stared at the dinosaur costume, then back at Molly. Somehow her logic always sounded reasonable at two in the morning after four cups of coffee. That should have worried him more than it did. "Fine. But I'm not doing balloon animals. Last time I gave a kid a balloon dog, it looked like a balloon crime scene." "Deal. You just guard the present table and look intimidating. Or, well, dinosaur-intimidating." "How exactly does one look intimidating in an inflatable dinosaur suit?" "You'll figure it out. Meanwhile, I'll be doing balloon animals, making small talk with parents, and slowly, subtly, moving presents to the van parked out back." "And when they notice half the presents are missing?" Molly grinned, tapping the blueprint where she'd drawn a small circle around the driveway. "By then, we'll be three towns over, selling a PS5 to some very confused pawn shop owner." Bill sighed, already picturing himself sweating inside rubber dinosaur skin while eight-year-olds screamed with joy around him. It wasn't the heist he'd imagined when he got into this life. Diamonds. Bank vaults. Maybe an art gallery. But Molly was already zipping up her clown wig case, humming "Happy Birthday" under her breath like it was a battle hymn. "For the record," Bill muttered, "if this goes sideways, I'm blaming you." "It always goes sideways, Bill. That's half the fun."