Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD7ZC2ZEECKGW71P832ZTDQ

Molly spread the blueprint across the hood of the van. "Target acquired. Saturday, two p.m., the Hendersons' backyard. Estimated haul: forty presents, gift-wrapped, sitting on one table like an all-you-can-steal buffet." Bill squinted at the diagram. "It's a seven-year-old's birthday party." "Exactly. No security cameras, no alarms, and the guests are all under four feet tall." "So are the presents, mostly. Last week I saw a kid get socks." "Socks don't come with a Dora the Explorer balloon arch, Bill. Trust me. These people have money." Bill rubbed his chin. "What's the entry plan?" "We go in as clowns." "You hate clowns." "I hate being broke more. I already rented the costumes. Yours has a squirting flower." "Mine? Why does mine have the flower?" "Because you have the face for comedy and I have the face for logistics. Now, once we're inside, I distract the parents with balloon animals while you load the presents into the bouncy castle." "The bouncy castle?" "It's our getaway vehicle's staging area." "It's inflatable, Molly." "It's inconspicuous, Bill." Bill paced along the roadside. "Okay, walk me through it. What if a kid sees me stuffing presents through the castle flap?" "You honk your nose at them. Children are legally incapable of reporting crimes if a clown honks at them. It's science." "That is not science. And what about the piñata? Every party has a piñata. That's chaos waiting to happen." Molly tapped the blueprint with a stubby pencil. "Piñata is scheduled for three o'clock per the Facebook event page. We extract at two-fifty. Ten-minute window. Cake at two-thirty gives us cover—nobody watches a present table when there's cake." "You've memorized the party schedule off Facebook?" "I've done reconnaissance. I've also learned the birthday boy wants a drum set, which is a problem." "How is that a problem?" "Drum sets are bulky, Bill. They don't stack. It'll throw off my whole packing geometry." Bill threw his hands up. "We're not stealing the drum set. We're not stealing the socks either. We take the small stuff, the gift cards, the electronics." "Nobody gives a seven-year-old electronics." "The Hendersons do. Did you see the photos of their Christmas? The tree had its own security detail." Molly rolled up the blueprint and tucked it into her waistband. "Fine. Small items only, minimum twenty presents, in and out before the piñata. Questions?" "One. What do we do if the clown company they actually hired shows up?" Molly froze. "They hired real clowns?" "Page says 'entertainment confirmed, two p.m.'" "Then we go in as balloon delivery. Quick, what's a balloon company name?" "'Up Yours Balloons'?" "We're not putting that on the van." "'Helium and Goodbye'?" Molly opened the van door. "Get in. We have two days to learn how to tie balloon animals, and you, my friend, are going to look ridiculous practicing." "I already look ridiculous. You bought me a squirting flower." "It's decorative! And it squirts real water, which is your emergency distraction tool. Nobody expects the flower." Bill climbed into the passenger seat, sighing. "One day we'll rob a bank like normal criminals." "Banks have guards. Birthday parties have cake. Do the math, Bill." "The math is that we're stealing toys from children." "The math is that we're stealing from the Hendersons. The children are collateral beneficiaries of a lesson about materialism." "You're unbelievable." "I'm a visionary. Now buckle up. We're hitting the costume shop for wigs."