Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD6BQFT5XN5CBTRGQAF3KYQ

Molly unfolded the crayon-scribbled map across Bill's dashboard. "The party's Saturday. Three o'clock. Hibiscus Drive." "You're telling me," Bill said, squinting, "that we're robbing a seven-year-old." "We're robbing forty seven-year-olds' worth of presents, Bill. Big difference." "I feel like it's actually worse." "The Henderson kid's getting a Nintendo. Do you know what a Nintendo goes for?" "What a Nintendo goes for is evidence. Cops love Nintendos." "Then we'll wear the clown costumes." Bill put his head on the steering wheel. "We are not wearing the clown costumes." "Nobody suspects the clowns, Bill. That's the whole point of clowns." "I suspect clowns. Everybody suspects clowns. Children cry at clowns." "Fine. Magicians." "Same thing with hats." "It's not the same—look, we go in, we do the balloon animals, and while they're singing happy birthday, we load the presents into the van." "You can't do balloon animals. Last time you made a dog and it looked like a crime scene." "It was abstract." "It was a warning, Molly." She rolled up the map. "Saturday. Three o'clock. Bring the good balloons." Bill sighed. "I'm bringing the bad balloons. That's all we deserve."