Run: 2026-09-02-01M1HJCN2TERA3Y4XHGA21KR0K

Molly smoothed the crinkled map over the steering wheel of their surveillance van. Across the suburban street, cheerful accordion music echoed from the Higgins backyard. "Look at the blueprints, Bill. This is the big leagues." "Molly, that’s a greasy cocktail napkin with crayon on it." "It’s a tactical schematic, you uncultured brute. Target time is fourteen-hundred hours. We breach through the hydrangeas, evade the bouncy castle, and secure the gift table." Bill adjusted his dark aviator sunglasses, squinting through the grease-stained windshield at the cluster of pastel balloons. "The bouncy castle has a perimeter?" "It’s guarded by six sugar-crazed second-graders. You step on that vinyl without socks, you’re dead." "I brought non-slip grip socks from the trampoline park." Molly nodded with grim approval, tapping her ballpoint pen against the crudely drawn layout of the crowded backyard patio. "Brenda Higgins runs a tight ship. Eyes everywhere, mostly checking labels for gluten. If Brenda spots us, we deploy the primary decoy." "Which is?" "An artisanal baked brie left unattended on the kitchen island. It’ll buy us four minutes." "Brilliant. And the father?" "Greg’s at the grill, four beers deep. Neutralized." She pointed a gloved finger toward a tall, ominous figure twisting long balloons beside the patio umbrella. "What about the hired muscle?" "Bangles the Clown. Shifty eyes. Intel says he’s armed with balloon animals, but I suspect heavy-duty glitter and high-velocity confetti. If you hear squeaking, drop to the grass." "Right. What’s the haul?" "A motorized mini-Jeep, two drones, and an envelope of cash from Grandma Higgins." Bill shifted uncomfortably in the cramped passenger seat, his knees pressing hard against the dented glove compartment. "A motorized Jeep? How are we getting that over the cedar fence?" "You’re driving it out the side gate." "Me? I’m six-foot-two and two hundred pounds! My knees will be jammed straight into my chin! I’ll look like an overgrown toddler in a plastic Barbie ride!" "Then pedal fast if the battery dies. I’ll follow behind with the video games and the Lego sets." Outside, a sudden chorus of high-pitched shrieks erupted across the lawn as someone suspended a papier-mâché donkey. "What if the children swarm us, Molly? You’ve never seen them when the juice boxes run dry. They turn feral. Last Thanksgiving my nephew tackled an uncle over a fruit roll-up." "That’s why we strike during the main event." "The cake cutting?" "The piñata. The moment the blindfolded kid swings the bat, chaos reigns. The parents film, the kids dive for candy, and nobody notices two adults hauling five hundred dollars of high-end plastic down the driveway." "It’s ruthless, Molly. He’s turning seven." She glared back at him, pulling a bright pink ski mask over her brown hair. "Timmy doesn't appreciate mint-condition packaging, Bill. He tears through cellophane like a rabid raccoon. We’re doing the collector community a genuine service, and that Lego Millennium Falcon belongs in an adult’s display cabinet." "Fair point. Hand me my clown nose. Let’s go make some money." Bill snapped the red sponge ball onto his nose and quietly clicked open his door.