Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GQ93GZZ8A09RSKT63157K6

Molly spread the blueprint across the van's hood, weighted at the corners with gummy worms they'd stolen earlier. Rain hammered the windshield of their getaway van, which was disguised—badly—as an ice cream truck. "Okay. Balloon arch here, bouncy castle there, cake table dead center." Bill squinted at the map. "Which one's the bouncy castle?" "The giant purple thing. Focus." "Why does a kid need fourteen presents?" "Rich parents overcompensate. We're the compensation." He nodded, the way he did when a plan sounded both criminal and beautiful. "We go through the hedge at two. Clowns patrol in shifts, Bill." "You're scared of clowns?" "I'm respectful of clowns. There's a difference." True. A clown had ruined her life in Atlantic City once. Bill chewed his toothpick. "And the presents?" "Garbage bags labeled PARTY DEBRIS. Nobody questions debris." "The piñata?" Molly paused, wounded. "The piñata stays. We're not monsters." They solemnly placed hands over their hearts. She rolled up the blueprint with a snap. "We hit during cake. Nine minutes." "Why nine?" "At minute ten, the magician wakes up." Bill smiled. "And I'm the muscle." "Muscle who gets a present?" "You get one Lego." He flexed, which changed very little. "That's all I ask." Outside, rain fell on their terrible, beautiful plan.