Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ5359JD1T2QJBYZXV8Z1JG

Molly held the crayon-drawn map up to the flickering lightbulb, tilting it one way and then another. Bill paced behind her, boots scuffing the cracked linoleum. "Bill, this map looks like it was drawn by a six-year-old." "It was. I bribed the birthday girl's cousin with a candy bar." "You bribed a child to give you intelligence on another child's birthday party. That's a new low, even for you." "All's fair in love and theft, Molly. According to my source, the party starts at two. The parents will be distracted with the clown." "There's a clown?" "Creepy guy named Bouncy Bob. Does balloon animals and falls asleep around three-thirty. That's our window." "And the bouncy castle?" "The what now?" "Bill, did your little informant not mention the bouncy castle? Giant inflatable fortress in the backyard? You can't waltz past a bouncy castle full of sugar-crazed seven-year-olds." "I'll disable it." "Disable a bouncy castle? How exactly?" "I have a plan." "Your last plan involved robbing a bank disguised as a pizza delivery guy. We ended up actually delivering three pizzas before the cops showed up." "We made twenty bucks in tips." "We almost went to prison, Bill! For pizza money!" Molly set down the map and rubbed her temples. The afternoon sun cut through the blinds, lighting up dust motes between them. "Kids' parties are easy. Parents are exhausted. Children are small. We go in through the side gate, grab the presents, and we're out before anyone notices." "And the presents are where exactly?" "Last year they were in the dining room. I assume—" "You assume? We're basing a heist on assumptions now?" "What do you want from me, Molly? I can only get so much intel from a six-year-old!" Molly grabbed two wrinkled white shirts from a chair and tossed them at him. "Here's what we're going to do. We go in as catering staff." "We're not catering staff." "We are now. I picked up these uniforms from the goodwill bin. We show up early, blend in, and when the cake cutting starts—" "Diversion?" "Exactly. You start a small fire—" "No fires near children, Molly." "Bill, when did you develop morals?" "I'm just saying. No fires." "Fine. You spill punch on the birthday clown. While everyone's dealing with that mess, I grab the presents." "The big ones too?" "Especially the big ones. That's where the good stuff is. Did you bring the van?" Molly pointed out the window. The van sat at the curb, rust-orange with hand-painted letters. "The one with 'Happy Clowns Catering' painted on the side." "You got the van painted?" "I know a guy. We'll be in and out in four minutes. Just follow my lead and for the love of God, don't make eye contact with any of the children. They can sense weakness." "What if they talk to me?" "Tell them you're there to steal their presents. They'll think you're joking." "And if they don't?" Molly grabbed her coat from the hook by the door. "Then we run, Bill. We run and we never look back."