Run: 2026-09-02-01M1H57AYBK54MC1Y0QH2Y2Y1X

The van sat idling outside the Confetti Palace Party Emporium, rain drumming on the roof. "Okay, walk me through it one more time," Bill said, tapping the clipboard against his knee. "Because from where I'm sitting, our big score is a pile of teddy bears." Molly pulled the ski mask off her head and shook out her hair. "It's not teddy bears, Bill. It's a six-year-old's birthday extravaganza. We're talking electronics, cash gifts, designer toys. Rich parents overcompensate." "Rich parents who hire a magician. There's a magician, Molly." "I know there's a magician." "You can't leapfrog a magician. They see everything. It's their whole thing." "You're thinking of a wizard. Magicians just do card tricks and guilt-trip volunteers." Bill stared out the windshield at the venue, all balloon arches and glitter. "The invitation said 'Pirate Adventure Theme.' I feel like stealing from pirates violates some kind of code." "They're not real pirates, Bill." "That's exactly what a real pirate would say." Molly rolled her eyes and spread the floor plan across the dashboard. "Here's the layout. Present table's near the ball pit. I go in as the aunt from out of town. You cause a distraction by the cake." "What kind of distraction?" "You're wearing the costume, Bill." "I am not wearing the costume." "You're wearing the costume. It's in the back. It cost me forty dollars." "Forty dollars for a giant pigeon suit?" "Fifty with the tail feathers. And I'll be getting that back from the take." Bill turned around slowly and looked at the feathered monstrosity crumpled behind the seats. "There's a hole in this thing." "That's the entrance hole." "There's a hole in the head part. That's where the eyes go, technically. Which means when I'm flapping around the cake table, children will see a bird looking at them through its own face." "It's charming," Molly said. "Kids love it." "Kids throw chairs at things they love?" "Energy, Bill. Kids have energy." Bill rubbed his eyes with both hands, which only smudged his black greasepaint worse. "Fine. Fine. But if the magician picks me as a volunteer, I'm defecting. I'm joining the party. I'm having cake. You can go to prison alone." "The plan takes ninety seconds. Grab, roll, out through the fire door. The pigeon is just window dressing." "The pigeon is the whole plan, you're saying, and the plan is a bird." "A majestic bird." Bill pulled the suit into his lap and examined it with grim resignation. "One question. What do we do if a kid hugs the pigeon?" Molly paused. "Hugs it?" "Kids hug things, Molly. That's their whole thing. I go in there flapping, some tearful four-year-old is going to wrap their arms around my leg, and I'm not kicking a child at a birthday party. Even for a profit margin." "Nobody said anything about kicking children." "Then what's the protocol? I need a protocol." Molly sighed and pulled her mask back down. "You hug the kid back, you keep flapping, you finish the job. It's called commitment, Bill." "Unbelievable. I'm a criminal with feelings now." "The feelings make you unforgettable. Nobody suspects a tender pigeon." Bill pulled the head on and muttered through the hole. "Best heist crew in the state. Best heist crew in the state."