Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KAFNXZ49782DMRCDJ53BJ9

The van smelled of stale frosting and bad decisions. Molly spread a crudely drawn map across the dashboard and tapped it with a lollipop stick. "The birthday cake goes here, the clown here, and the mountain of presents sits right under the flamingo piñata. Security is a joke." Bill squinted at the map and adjusted the rearview mirror. "That piñata is a security risk, Mols. It's full of candy. Kids are tiny sugar-fueled maniacs. We could get trampled." "Which is why we use the distraction." "The puppy?" "No, Bill. Not a real puppy. We can't afford a puppy. We use a recording of a puppy yapping." Bill frowned. "A recording of a puppy doesn't lick faces. Kids know the difference." "Fine. We'll use a remote-control car with a sausage taped to it." "That's just a choking hazard with extra steps, and I won't do it." "Okay, new plan: we don't need a distraction. We blend in as party entertainers. I'm a magician, you're the balloon guy." Bill looked down at his oversized shoes. "I can't tie balloons. My fingers sweat. The balloons pop and then I cry." Molly patted his arm. "That's exactly what a sad clown would say. You're perfect. Now, the presents are wrapped in shiny paper. We need quiet extraction." "Quiet? Have you ever tried to unwrap a gift near a five-year-old? They hear crinkle from three blocks away." "We don't unwrap. We take the whole table." "The whole table? It's eight feet long, Molly. With a princess tablecloth and a chocolate fountain." "Perfect. We roll it up like a giant burrito. Presents, cake, juice boxes, everything. The fountain's just extra loot." Bill chewed his lip and stared through the windshield at the bouncy castle. "What about the birthday girl? She's got grabby hands and a plastic tiara." Molly pulled out a pair of glittery handcuffs. "I got these from a costume shop. We handcuff her to the bouncy castle." "That seems aggressive. She's turning six." "Bill, this is a heist, not a daycare. If we don't get the presents, we don't make rent, and I am not going back to selling timeshares." Bill sighed. "Fine. But if the clown asks, I'm not juggling." "You can't juggle." "Exactly. Clowns are competitive. They'll challenge me, and I don't need that kind of pressure." Molly started the van and checked the glovebox for spare party hats. "Remember the phrase. When I say 'Pin the tail on the donkey,' you hit the lights." Bill frowned. "Why can't I say the phrase?" "Because last time you said 'Unleash the ferret' and we didn't have a ferret. It was chaos. The petting zoo still has our fingerprints." "That ferret would've worked. It had real criminal energy." "We can't rely on ferrets, Bill. We have to be professional." Bill adjusted his rainbow suspenders. "Fine. But I want a raise." "You get the biggest present." "What if it's socks?" Molly paused. "Then we steal the next party. We follow the sock trail." Bill grinned. "I love this job."