Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD5THG8QK7H3XWVJN0V1006

Molly spread the blueprints across the hood of the car. They were drawn in crayon. "Where did you get these?" Bill asked. "The birthday boy's older brother. Cost me two juice boxes and my dignity." Bill squinted at the drawing. "Is that a dragon in the backyard?" "That's the bouncy castle." "And the moat?" "Sprinkler system. Timmy's dad is very proud of it. Now listen up." Molly tapped the paper with a chewed pencil. "The party starts at two. The presents go on the gift table by the patio doors. We have until cake time to clear it out." "Why cake time?" "Because nobody watches anything during cake. It's a law of nature. Twenty-seven kids screaming for sugar, parents filming on their phones, total chaos. That's our window." Bill nodded slowly. "And how do we get in?" "You're a clown." "I'm a what?" "A clown. I called the party entertainment company and told them the regular clown had the flu. You're filling in." "Molly, I can't juggle. I can't make balloon animals. I once fainted at the sight of a unicycle." "You don't need skills. You need to keep the kids occupied for fifteen minutes while I load the presents into the van." "Occupied how?" "Fall over a lot. Kids love when adults fall over. It's basically all they want." Bill rubbed his face. "And what are you going as?" "Catering." Molly held up a white apron. "Nobody looks at the catering lady. It's like being invisible, but with a cheese platter." "Fine. Fine. Let's talk about the take. What are we actually stealing here? Because I've thought about this, and it's all going to be Lego sets and slime kits." "Bill, the piñata alone has four hundred dollars of candy in it." "Candy? We're risking jail for candy?" "Premium candy. Belgian. Timmy's mom posted about it on the neighborhood app. Twice." Bill stared at her. "We are grown adults robbing a six-year-old." "Seven. And it's not robbing. It's redistributing. Kids don't appreciate premium chocolate anyway. It'll be smeared on a couch by Sunday." "That's actually a fair point." "I know it is." They stood in silence for a moment, both studying the crayon dragon. "What about the dog?" Bill asked. "What dog?" "There's a dog drawn on the blueprint. Big one. He's got teeth drawn in. Sharp teeth, Molly. The kid who drew this took the time to add teeth." "That's a Great Dane named Biscuit." "Biscuit." "Yeah." "What's Biscuit's role in the security setup?" "Biscuit sleeps eighteen hours a day. The kid drew teeth because kids draw teeth on everything. Relax." "I don't relax. Relaxing is how people end up on the news." "Nobody ends up on the news for clowning." "Famous last words." Bill folded the blueprint and shoved it in his jacket. "What if the real clown shows up?" "He won't." "How do you know?" Molly smiled. "Because I may have sent him a text saying the party was moved to Saturday. From the birthday mom's phone." "You have the mom's phone?" "Borrowed it yesterday. I returned it. I'm a thief, not an animal." Bill sighed the sigh of a man who had made many poor choices and was about to make another. "What size are the clown shoes?" "Thirteen." "I'm a ten." "Even better. You'll fall over constantly." Molly patted him on the shoulder. "Saturday, one forty-five. Bring the van." "And my dignity?" "Leave it at home. You won't need it."