Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD5VKP1MSJMRD1KG77BX9ZN

Molly spread the hand-drawn floor plan across the hood of the Buick and pinned down the corners with a juice box, a half-eaten sandwich, and Bill's elbow. "Quit leaning on the blueprints," she said. "It's my elbow. It goes where it wants. Why does the blueprint smell like apple juice?" "Because I drew it on the back of my nephew's lunch menu. Focus, Bill. Saturday, two p.m., the Hendersons' backyard. Twenty-three kids, one clown, and approximately thirty presents piled on a folding table." "Thirty presents," Bill whispered, his eyes going soft. "Molly, that's the score of a lifetime." "That's the score of a child's birthday party." "Exactly. No security guards. No cameras. Just a bouncy castle between us and freedom." "You think the bouncy castle helps us?" "I think the bouncy castle is our getaway vehicle." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "Bill, we cannot escape in a bouncy castle." "Fine. But I'm going in it. For reconnaissance." "You're going in as the entertainment. I got you a job." Bill sat up straight. "What kind of job?" "A magician." "I can't do magic!" "Neither can the clown, trust me. All you have to do is distract twenty-three five-year-olds for eight minutes while I load the presents into the van." "Eight minutes? Molly, I can't hold a five-year-old's attention for eight seconds. They can smell fear." "Then wear cologne. Here's the plan. You do the rabbit trick." "I don't have a rabbit." "You pull one out of a hat." "I don't have a hat!" Molly reached into the back seat and produced a top hat and a very disgruntled rabbit. "I have prepared for everything." Bill took the rabbit under its fuzzy armpits and held it at eye level. "What's his name?" "Distraction." "That's a terrible name for a rabbit." "It's a perfect name for that rabbit." "Fine. So I do the rabbit, the kids go wild, you grab the gifts. What about the clown?" "The clown is not a problem." "Molly, every clown is a problem. That's the first rule of crime." "The clown," Molly said patiently, "will be occupied. I tipped off his ex-wife that he'd be there." Bill blinked. "That's diabolical." "That's Tuesday. Now, the presents. Priority goes to anything that rattles. Rattling means electronics or jewelry." "Five-year-olds don't get jewelry." "Rich five-year-olds do. The Hendersons' nephew got a Rolex last year." "A Rolex? He's four!" "He's very punctual. Shake every box, Bill. If it rattles, it goes in the van. If it makes a sad floppy sound, it's clothes, leave it." "What if a kid sees me shaking their present?" "Tell them it's a magic trick." "That's your answer to everything." "It's worked so far, hasn't it?" Bill considered this while the rabbit chewed thoughtfully on his sleeve. "What about the cake?" Molly folded up the floor plan. "Bill. We are professionals. We are stealing from children. We are not monsters." "So no cake?" "One slice. For the rabbit." "Distraction," Bill said, nodding, "has earned it."