Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GTR2FCC6DZ3GPK93ZX5FZ8

Molly spread the reconnaissance photos across the card table like a general unveiling battle plans: the bouncy castle, the balloon arch, the defenseless mountain of wrapped presents beneath a banner reading HAPPY 6TH BIRTHDAY TYLER. "Bill, it's a bouncy castle." "Molly, I've done vaults. I can do balloons." She tapped a photograph of the perimeter. Chain-link fence, waist-high. A garden gnome wearing a party hat stood sentinel by the sandbox. Bill had already cased the property twice, once disguised as a telephone repairman and once, less successfully, as a large toddler. The hazards were real. Forty children hopped up on cake. A clown with a squirting flower and, Molly suspected, a sixth sense for trouble. A piñata swinging like a smoke alarm made of papier-mâché. "So where's the loot?" Bill asked, chewing his toothpick. "Under the piñata." He whistled low. This was it—the big one. Years of stealing gum from gas stations had all led here. Bill zipped up his ninja suit, size XL, elastic already going at one knee, and nodded grimly at the fence. Somewhere beyond it, sugar-fueled anarchy awaited. Molly checked her watch. The party started in four minutes, and Tyler's presents weren't going to steal themselves.