Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD4QXKF32CRY7M2RT6QFNXK

Molly spread the crayon drawing across the kitchen table and tapped it with a pencil. "Okay, Bill, here's the layout. I've been watching the Henderson place for a week." "Is that drawing... made by the birthday boy?" "He's seven, Bill. He's surprisingly thorough. Labeled the bouncy castle, the snack table, and where his dad hides the good beer." Bill squinted at the wobbly stick figures. "Why is there a dinosaur in the kitchen?" "That's the dog. Focus. The presents get dropped on the gift table by the patio doors. We wait for the clown to start his act, every eye in the yard is on him, and we sweep in." "We're robbing a child." "We're liberating presents. There's a difference." "There really isn't." "Bill, do you want the limited edition Star Commander figure or not? It's worth four hundred on the collector's market." "I want it very much," Bill admitted. "But won't the kids see us?" "That's the genius part. We go dressed as entertainers. You'll be the balloon animal guy." "I can't make balloon animals." "You don't have to be good. You just have to be distracting." "I made a balloon dog once. It looked like a crime scene." "Perfect. Kids love gross stuff. Meanwhile, I'll be the face painter, which puts me right next to the gift table." "What do you paint?" "Doesn't matter. Every kid wants a tiger. They all get tigers." Bill rubbed his chin. "What about the clown? Won't he notice two rival performers?" "Already handled. I called the Hendersons yesterday pretending to be the clown's agency. I told them he was double-booked and sending his two best associates." "You replaced a clown with us." "I upgraded a clown with us. The clown's getting paid anyway, I used the agency card." "That's fraud." "It's thoughtful fraud. He gets a day off." Bill stared at the drawing for a long moment. "The dog situation concerns me. Even if it looks like a dinosaur." "Chihuahua. Name's Pickles. I bribed him with sausage on Tuesday. We're basically friends now." "You befriended the mark's dog." "Thorough, Bill. I'm thorough. Now, exit strategy. Sack of presents, over the back fence, into the neighbor's hedge, retrieve at midnight." "Why the hedge?" "Because the neighbor's on vacation and his hedge has excellent cover. I tested it Tuesday. After the sausage." "Hold on. What if a kid catches us mid-grab?" Molly smiled and pulled a small speaker from her bag. "Then I trigger this. Pre-recorded piñata announcement. Every child in that yard will stampede to the far corner." "You've thought of everything." "Almost." She frowned. "There's one problem. The cake cutting is at three. If we're still inside at three, we'll be expected to sing." Bill considered this. "I know all the words." "Everybody knows all the words, Bill." "I do a harmony." "Fine. Emergency protocol: if trapped, we sing, we smile, we grab the loot during the candle-blowing. Nobody watches presents when there's fire." "You know what the scariest part is?" Bill said, folding the drawing carefully. "This is the most organized we've ever been, and it's for a seven-year-old's birthday." "Greatness has to start somewhere. Saturday, one o'clock. Wear something festive." "I own a Hawaiian shirt." "Perfect. You'll look exactly like a man who makes terrible balloon animals for money."