Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD4YSVGWE106VXWCD7R3VCT

Molly spread the floor plan across the hood of Bill's Buick, pinning it down with a half-eaten corn dog. "Okay, listen," she said. "Target's a birthday party. Saturday. Six-year-old named Timmy Henderson. Roughly thirty guests, which means roughly thirty presents." Bill squinted at the diagram. "We're robbing a child." "We're robbing thirty children, technically. Efficiency, Bill. That's what separates us from amateurs." "I feel like nothing separates us from amateurs. Last week you tried to pick a lock with a spoon." "It was a very strong spoon." Molly tapped the page. "Now, the cake arrives at two. I go in as the cake lady." "Where are you getting a cake?" "I'm not getting a cake. I'm getting a box that says cake on it." "People are going to want cake, Molly." "And that's where you come in." She looked at him with the patience of a saint. "You'll be inside already, dressed as a clown, gathering the presents into the bouncy castle." "The bouncy castle?" "It's got a zipper, Bill. It's basically a giant purse with children inside it." "Children. Inside. My evidence bag." "Well, we'll encourage them to bounce out first. Obviously. What do you think I am?" She rolled up the floor plan and swatted him with it. "Once the castle's loaded, you deflate it—" "How?" "Knife." "You can't bring a knife to a children's party!" "It's for the cake!" "There is no cake!" Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine. You pull the plug on the air blower, the castle collapses around the presents, you drag the whole wobbling mass out the side gate, I'm waiting in the van." Bill chewed his lip. "Where do I learn clowning by Saturday?" "You don't need to clown. You need to look like a clown. Kids can't tell the difference. Adults are too polite to check." "What if they ask me to make balloon animals?" "Make one balloon animal." "I don't know how." "It's a snake. Every balloon animal is a snake if you believe in yourself." She slid off the hood. "Wear big shoes, honk your nose at anyone who gets suspicious, and if a kid challenges you, give them a quarter." "Where am I getting thirty quarters?" "You're a thief, Bill. Steal them." He nodded slowly, then stopped. "Wait. What's my clown name?" "Does it matter?" "It matters to me." Molly sighed the sigh of a woman carrying an entire criminal enterprise on her back. "Fine. You're Giggles." "I want to be Doctor Bonkers." "You're Giggles." "Doctor Bonkers has a ring to it. Kids trust doctors." "Kids do not trust doctors. Kids fear doctors. That's medical fact." "Then kids will fear Doctor Bonkers, and fear means they won't question me while I stuff a PS5 into a bouncy castle." Molly opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "That's... actually not terrible reasoning." "I have my moments." "Doctor Bonkers it is." She tossed him the corn dog. "Eat up. Tomorrow we case the joint." "The Henderson house?" "The party supply store. We need a piñata." "For cover?" "For the getaway. Nobody chases a clown carrying a piñata. It raises too many questions, and questions slow people down." Bill bit into the corn dog and chewed thoughtfully. "Molly?" "Yeah?" "If Timmy's wish when he blows out the candles is that nobody steals his presents—" "Then Timmy should've wished harder."