Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD4SMPQMW3A03NDRA9M2G9V

The van smelled like old fries and desperation. Molly had parked it across from the Henderson's suburban fortress, where a rented inflatable unicorn the size of a small garage wobbled in the wind. A banner screamed EMMA IS FIVE in glitter that caught the sun and threw it directly into Molly's eyes. Bill was already in costume. Or half costume. He wore striped tights and a tunic that said Royal Entertainment Co. He held a bag of deflated balloons like they were weapons. "We are not actually stealing from five-year-olds, right?" Molly said. "We are absolutely stealing from five-year-olds. Those gift bags have Lego sets." Bill pumped the foot pump, inflating a balloon with intense concentration. Molly stared at the princess dress draped over the passenger seat. It was pink, aggressively pink, with more tulle than was legally necessary. Somewhere inside that house, a pile of presents was stacked higher than Bill after his wisdom teeth removal. "This is a new low. Even for us." "Don't be dramatic. It's Emma's party. Her dad is a diamond dealer. Those presents are top shelf." Molly picked up the plastic crown. It was sticky. "Top shelf? They're wrapped in unicorn paper." "Exactly. Nobody suspects unicorn paper. Last year her kid got a pony. A real pony." The side gate to the backyard was open, guarded only by a bored teenager on a juice box break. Beyond it, Molly could see the present table groaning under weight, a mountain of bright paper next to a cake shaped like a castle. They had cased the party for three days. The presents arrived at noon. At two, Emma's mom moved them all to one table for maximum photo impact. At two thirty, all the kids would be in the backyard screaming at the magician who was not Bill. That was their window. Thirty minutes to walk in, grab the mountain, stuff it into the laundry hamper marked COSTUMES, and roll it out like they were leaving early. Simple. Elegant. Morally bankrupt. She sighed and started shimmying into the dress. The zipper stuck halfway. "So your plan is we dress as clowns?" "No. Clowns scare kids. We dress as the entertainment. You are Princess Sparkle. I am your loyal balloon animal squire." "I hate children. And glitter." "Perfect. They'll never see it coming." Bill watched a child run past screaming, holding a light-up wand. He pulled out a clipboard with their official plan scribbled in crayon. "What if they recognize us from the aquarium job?" Molly asked. "Nobody recognizes a guy who can twist a poodle out of latex in under ten seconds." Molly finally zipped up, shedding dignity with every inch. "Fine. But if I get stuck in the bouncy castle again, I'm keeping the loot." "Deal." Bill opened the van door and bowed extravagantly. The inflatable unicorn squeaked ominously as if judging them. The princess and her squire stepped into the sunlight, ready to commit the pettiest felony of their careers.