Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GR8E58KAZA3W6HH3T34NH8

The van sat in a Denny's parking lot. Between them on the dashboard lay the blueprint: construction paper, glitter glue, and a crayon drawing of a ranch house. Molly tapped the drawing. "Two-thirty. Party's in full swing. We hit the gift table during the piñata." "Why the piñata?" "Because thirty children will be beating a cardboard donkey to death in the backyard. Nobody looks at the garage during state-sanctioned violence." Bill nodded. "Security situation?" "That's the bad news. There's a bounce house." "So? We love bounce houses." "Bill, it's an inflatable fortress. Twelve-foot walls, zero line of sight, and once you're in, the physics own you. Nobody exits a bounce house with dignity. It's scientifically impossible." "Okay. We go around it." "Through it. We enter through the exit." "You can't enter through the exit!" "That's what makes it genius. Nobody watches the exit. It's unguardable." Bill rubbed his face. "This isn't going to be like the Easter egg hunt, is it?" "That was one time, and your plan was worse." "You hid in a mailbox, Molly." "Mailboxes are camouflaged." "What about the parents?" "Mothers, Bill. Nine of them. They hover. They never blink. One is livestreaming the entire party with a battery pack." "So we wait for her phone to die." "She brought a backup battery." "Who is this woman?" "Somebody's aunt. We don't talk about the aunt." Bill leaned over the blueprint. "What's the red circle?" "The clown." "There's a clown?" "He does balloon animals. He's ex-military, I can tell. The way he twisted that giraffe? Discipline." "So we take him out first." "With what? You can't fight a clown. They feel no pain. They live for the audience. You punch a clown, you've given him content." "Then we avoid the clown, avoid the bounce house, grab the gifts during the piñata, and we're out before cake." "We're out before cake?" "Bill—" "Hear me out. Everyone stays for cake. You leave before cake, you might as well leave in a police car." Molly stared at him. "That's... actually smart." "I contain frosting." "Layers. You mean layers." "Sure. Where do we stash the presents?" "Trash bags." "Trash bags." "It's a kid's party, Bill. Nobody questions a man holding trash bags. You'll blend right in with the dads." She rolled up the blueprint. "One more thing. Whose party is this, exactly?" Bill looked out the window at the Denny's. He looked at his sandals, which had socks in them. "Bill." "It's my nephew's, okay? Tyler's turning eight. I already RSVP'd. I'm on juice box duty." "You're on juice box duty." "Two cooler packs of Capri Sun, Molly. I can't steal from a child I'm providing juice to. That's a betrayal of juice." Molly exhaled through her teeth. "Fine. We take the presents, then you hand him a juice box. A win and a peace offering." "So it's a heist with a juice chaser." "Bill?" "Yeah?" "We are never working children's parties again."