Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ4BVRM74MXATJ9E7XA4CRK

Molly adjusted her black ski mask and peered through the bushes at the inflatable castle in the backyard. Twenty children screamed inside it like howler monkeys on espresso. "You're sure about this?" Bill whispered, fidgeting beside her. He had grass stains on his tactical pants already. "It's perfect," she replied. "Thirty presents minimum. I counted." "But it's a children's party." "Exactly. No security. Parents are inside drinking wine. One clown guarding the loot." "That clown looks aggressive." "He's making balloon animals. How aggressive can he be?" Bill adjusted his night vision goggles in broad daylight. "What if kids cry?" "Kids always cry. We'll be a blur. A rumor. The ghost of birthday past." "The plan has holes, Molly." "The plan is Swiss cheese. That's what makes it work." Molly pulled out her blueprint, which was actually a crayon drawing on a napkin. She pointed to the picnic table where presents were stacked. "Distraction there," she said. "Grab there. Escape there." "You drew a dragon on the escape route." "Artistic flourish." Bill studied the drawing. "I still don't get why we don't wait until everyone leaves." "Because then the parents take the presents inside. Then we're breaking into a house. That's a whole different felony." "This is still a felony." "A lighter felony. Misdemeanor adjacent." They watched a small boy in a Batman costume tackle another child into the inflatable castle wall. It buckled but held. "What about the cake?" Bill asked. "What about it?" "Are we stealing the cake?" "We're thieves, Bill, not monsters. We take presents only. Cake stays." "What if there's cake in one of the boxes?" "Then god has smiled upon us." The clown began juggling. Children shrieked with delight. "His attention is on the juggling," Molly said. "Move on my signal." "Which is?" "You'll know." Molly reached into her bag and pulled out a remote control helicopter. She'd painted it black for stealth purposes, rendering it nearly invisible against the afternoon sky. The throttle buzzed. "That's your signal?" "Wait for it." The helicopter rose above the bushes, whizzing over the yard. Children's heads turned like meerkats. The clown's juggling faltered. A pin dropped. "Go!" Molly whispered. Bill stumbled forward, still wearing his night vision goggles. He tripped over a garden gnome, swore creatively, then rolled behind a folding chair. "You're a disaster," Molly muttered. She moved low and quick, approaching the presents from the blind side. The stack was impressive. Laser tag sets, a microscope, board games, wrapped mysteries that jiggled promisingly. The helicopter dive-bombed the clown. "What the—" the clown started, his wig askew. Molly grabbed three presents simultaneously. Bill lurched over, arms loaded with four more, goggles now around his neck. "Retreat!" she said. They fled through the side gate as the children chased the helicopter in a screaming mass. The clown yelled something about insurance. Behind a hedge two streets over, they surveyed their haul, breathing hard. "What about the helicopter?" Bill asked. Molly hit a second button. The helicopter rose and flew itself home. "Pre-programmed," she said, grinning. Bill sat on the stolen gifts. "I think I sat on something breakable." "Occupational hazard." "Same time next weekend?" "There's a princess party in the north end. I hear they're giving out ponies." Bill's eyes widened behind his crooked goggles. "I love this job."