Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD65BNA532M0ED9JVS7CKGG

Molly spread the crayon drawing across the hood of the getaway car. It was a picture of a bouncy castle, a pony, and what appeared to be a dragon, labeled "PIÑATA" in backwards letters. "Bill, this is the intelligence we paid six dollars for." "Little Tommy drew it himself," Bill said proudly. "His house is the target. Well, his backyard. Well, his birthday party." "We are robbing a six-year-old." "We are acquiring approximately forty wrapped gifts with an estimated street value of—" Bill squinted at his notepad, "—eleven hundred dollars. Mostly Lego." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "Explain the plan again. Slowly." "Right. The party's Saturday, two o'clock. Theme is 'Dinosaurs.' I go in disguised as a balloon artist." "You can't make balloon animals." "I can make one animal. A snake. Which, conveniently, is also a dinosaur that lost its legs." "What's my role?" "You're the clown." Molly's eye twitched. "I am not the clown." "Molly, they already booked a clown. I intercepted him. His name is Giggles and he's very angry and I had to pay him fifty dollars to call in sick." "You spent fifty dollars to become a clown?" "You to become a clown. I spent my money on the balloon pump." She stared at him for a long moment. "Fine. Walk me through the extraction." "Simple. Presents go on the gift table, right? Table's near the fence. At three o'clock, during the piñata, every adult will be watching a blindfolded child swing a bat. That's our window. You wheel the presents out in the cake cart." "The cake cart has a cake on it, Bill." "We eat the cake first." "That's your plan? Eat a cake?" "It's a big cake. Three tiers. But we have almost an hour." "What if the kids notice us?" Bill tapped the drawing. "That's where the genius comes in. Kids don't report crimes. Kids think everything is a game. You start loading gifts, I announce it's the 'Present Parade' game, and the children help us carry the loot to the van." Molly opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "That is either brilliant or the dumbest thing you've ever said." "It's both. That's what makes it art." "And the pony?" "The pony is a complication," Bill admitted. "Ponies are honest." "Nobody has ever said that about a pony." "Fine, we bribe the pony. Apples." Molly folded up the crayon map and tucked it into her coat. "One more question. Why are we stealing a child's birthday presents, Bill? Morally." Bill looked at his shoes. "I lost a bet with Gino the Ferret." "The Ferret bet you couldn't rob a kid's party?" "He bet I wouldn't. And I, foolishly, said, 'Name the party.'" "Bill." "He's very smug, Molly. You haven't seen his little face." Molly sighed and grabbed the clown wig from the back seat. "Saturday, two o'clock. And I'm keeping the biggest Lego set. Call it hazard pay." "Deal. Oh—one more thing." "What." "The birthday boy's name is also Bill. So if anyone shouts 'Bill,' don't panic. Statistically, it's about cake."