Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCRMS0KDQ97WKDVHA0VQR4H

Molly spread the blueprint across the hood of the van, smoothing it with the flat of her hand. It was a napkin. "That's the bouncy castle," she said, tapping a grease stain. "That's the piñata. And that, right there, is the gift table." "You drew the gift table as a treasure chest." "For morale, Bill." Bill leaned in, squinting. "How many presents we talking?" "Birthday girl's turning seven. Twenty-two RSVPs. Rich neighborhood, so we're looking at premium loot. Lego sets. Those dolls with the eyes." "I hate those dolls with the eyes." "Nobody likes the dolls with the eyes, Bill, that's not the point. The point is resale." "And the parents? The parents just let us walk out with a wagon full of—" "That's why we've got costumes." Molly popped the van's back doors. Inside, hanging from a rusted rail, were two enormous felt suits. One was a bear. The other was something with antlers and an expression of profound betrayal. Bill stared. "What is that one supposed to be?" "That's Sniffles the Woodland Friend." "Sniffles the what?" "It's a beloved children's character." "By who?" "By children, Bill. It's in the name." "I've never heard of him." "You've never heard of anything. You thought Frozen was a documentary." "It had icebergs in it." Bill pulled the antlered head off the rail and turned it over in his hands like a suspicious melon. "This smells like a wet dog's opinion." "You'll be inside it for forty minutes, tops. Here's the run of play. Two o'clock, we arrive at the gate. I do the talking. I say we're the entertainment, courtesy of Aunt Deborah." "There's an Aunt Deborah?" "There's always an Aunt Deborah. Every family's got one and nobody can ever get hold of her. She's a structural feature of the modern household." "Okay. And then?" "Then we perform." Bill's head came up. "Perform?" "Fifteen minutes of song and interpretive movement, then I announce the Grand Present Parade, in which all the children help us carry the gifts out to the Magic Wagon for enchanting." "For enchanting." "Kids will believe anything if you say it confidently and clap twice. It's the single greatest security flaw in the Western world." "So the children carry the loot to the van." "The children carry the loot to the van, Bill. That's the beauty of it. It's not theft, it's delegation." Bill was quiet for a moment. "What if they ask about the enchanting process?" "You improvise." "I can't improvise. I panicked at that wedding and told everyone I was the bride's dentist." "You were wearing a scrub top." "I panic-dressed!" "Just stay in character," Molly said, hauling the bear suit down. "Sniffles doesn't speak. Sniffles communicates exclusively through mime and gentle nodding." "Because you couldn't find a voice box." "Because Sniffles is a creature of silence and mystery." She zipped herself into the bear halfway and paused. "One rule. Nonnegotiable." "Which is?" "If a kid hugs you, you hug back." Bill blinked. "We're stealing their presents." "We're professionals," Molly said, "not monsters."