Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD74E1NW7Z4BNSRTE0W9CQ2

Molly spread the blueprint across the dashboard, squinting in the glow of Bill's flashlight. "Okay. The piñata hangs here. The bouncy castle covers the east exit." "Tell me again why we're robbing a seven-year-old," Bill said. "Because little Jayden's grandmother is rich, and rich grandmothers buy gold-plated tricycles." "That's not a thing." "It is now. Focus." She tapped the map. "You go in dressed as the clown." "I get hives from face paint." "You get hives from responsibility. Wear the wig." Bill sighed. "And if the kids catch us?" "Kids are terrible witnesses. Half of them can't count past ten." "Jayden's in gifted math." "Then bribe him with cake." Molly rolled up the blueprint and checked her watch. "Cake cutting is at two. That's our window. Chaos, tears, frosting everywhere—nobody notices two clowns carrying thirty gift bags." "One clown," Bill corrected. "You said you're the balloon artist." "Fine. One clown, one balloon artist, thirty gift bags." "What if there's a magician?" Molly paused. "Why would there be a magician?" "There's always a magician, Molly. They see everything. It's literally their job." "Then we take the magician too." "We are not kidnapping a magician." "Desperate times, Bill. Desperate, festive times."