Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCR4C2XG29VD277JTZBCXDZ

Molly spread the napkin across the diner table and smoothed it flat like a blueprint, which it now was. "Bouncy castle here," she said, stabbing it with a pen. "Piñata here. Present table, northeast corner, under the balloon arch." "Guarded?" "By a grandmother. Eighty-one. Bad hip." Bill stirred his coffee thoughtfully. "I don't love it, Moll. These are children." "These are children whose parents work in hedge funds. That present table is holding four grand in unopened Lego." "And the entertainment?" "Clown. Goes by Mr. Wobbles. Union guy, takes his break at two-fifteen sharp." "So we're in at two-sixteen." "We're in at two-fourteen, dressed as his backup." Bill set down his spoon. "There's no such thing as backup clowns." "Nobody at a birthday party has ever once questioned an extra clown," Molly said. "It's the single greatest gap in suburban security." "And the getaway?" "Ice cream van. Parked out front, engine running, perfectly invisible." "Kids will swarm it." "Kids are excellent cover." Bill studied the napkin a long moment, then exhaled through his nose the way he did when he'd already agreed and simply resented being right about it. "Fine," he said. "But I'm not doing balloon animals." "You'll do a giraffe, Bill." "I'll do a snake."