Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ42FHYAKCSA888WSN81MMJ

The van smelled like old French fries and regret. Molly unfolded the blueprint across the dashboard, weighing down the corners with a half-eaten granola bar and a empty coffee cup. "Alright, so the target is the Pemberton kid's seventh birthday party," she said. "Saturday. Two o'clock. Forty-seven confirmed guests, twelve of them children under four feet tall." Bill scratched his chin. "Security?" "One bouncy castle operator. He'll be distracted. And there's a magician, but he's mostly just illusions. No real threat." "What about the parents?" "Soft targets, Bill. They'll be drinking wine and pretending to enjoy each other's company. By cake time, they won't notice if we walk out with every gift bag and wrapped package in the house." Bill leaned back and stared at the ceiling of the van. "What's the haul looking like?" "Sixty-three presents on the registry. Lego sets, a Nintendo, some kind of robot dog that costs three hundred dollars. We're looking at maybe eight grand if we fence it right." "Eight thousand? For robbing children?" Molly shrugged. "Crime doesn't have a minimum age requirement for victims, Bill. Besides, they're seven. They won't even remember." "I don't know. Kids are vengeful." "You're afraid of a bunch of seven-year-olds?" "I'm afraid of one specific seven-year-old. The Pemberton kid. I've heard stories. He bit a clown last year." "Clowns deserve to be bitten. Now focus. We need a way in." Bill pointed at the blueprint. "What about through the kitchen? Caterers are coming in through the back. We wear the uniforms, load presents into empty catering boxes, walk right out." Molly's eyes lit up. "That's not terrible. We'll need to lift the catering uniforms Friday night." "I know a guy." "You always know a guy." "Being a criminal is about networking, Molly. It's a people business." She tapped the blueprint. "So we go in as caterers, identify the present table, wait for the magician's big finale. That's when every kid will be focused on him. We load the goods, thirty seconds tops, walk out the back door, into the van, gone." "What if someone asks us to serve food?" "Then we serve food, Bill. We're caterers. We cater." "What if the kid wants us to watch him do a magic trick?" "Then we watch and clap. We're professionals." Bill shifted uncomfortably. "What if there's a piñata?" "What about it?" "I have a thing about piñatas. All that blindfolded swinging. It's chaos." "You're afraid of a piñata but you're fine stealing from children?" "I never said I was fine with it. I said I'd do it. There's a difference." Molly folded the blueprint and tucked it into her jacket. "We go in, we get out, nobody gets hurt. The kid will cry, his parents will buy him more stuff, and we'll be eight thousand dollars richer. It's victimless." "It's literally the opposite of victimless." "Relatively victimless." Bill signed. "Fine. But if that kid comes at me with anything sharper than a party hat, I'm out." "Agreed. Now let's go practice carrying appetizer trays. You hold them like you're carrying a bomb." "It's shrimp, Molly. Shrimp is basically a bomb if you leave it out too long."