Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KC8W9KBCKX4T4BBFX08VPW

Molly lowered the rhinestone-studded binoculars and passed Bill a map of the community center drawn in green crayon. The van smelled of glitter glue and the faint sour tang of old juice boxes. Outside, a magician was unloading a rabbit from a hatchback while a pony wandered dangerously close to the cake table. The inflatable dragon bouncy castle listed to one side, and a grandmother with a silver whistle chased a toddler away from the gift table. Bill licked his thumb and smoothed the map. Bill said, "Let me get this straight. We are robbing a children's birthday party." Molly pointed to the pirate-shaped gift table heaped with rainbow-wrapped boxes. "Triplets, actually. Brayden, Jayden, and Okayden." "Okayden? That's just cruel." Bill adjusted the red foam nose in his lap and stared at the birthday banner. It read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BRAYDEN, JAYDEN, AND OKAYDEN. "The piñata starts at three. Security is one teenager and a grandma with a whistle." "Grandma's the real threat." Molly pulled two lanyards from the glovebox. One held a cartoon pony badge; the other held a bubble wand. "We go in as entertainers. I'm face-painter, you're bubbles." "I don't do bubbles." "You don't do a lot, Bill. That's why we're stealing from toddlers." "What's the play?" Molly tapped the map where the ball pit had been circled in orange marker. The marker line wobbled where someone—probably Bill—had tried to trace over a coffee stain. "During the piñata, eyes on the bat kid. You make bubbles. I load gifts." "The stroller with the crying doll?" "We're parents leaving early. Baby needs a nap." Bill frowned and looked at the empty stroller parked beside the van. It had one wheel that squeaked like a dying mouse and a cupholder full of dry cheerios. "Our baby is a sack of stolen toys." "Wrap it in a blanket. Add a bonnet. Nobody questions a sleeping baby." "Until it clatters like a toolbox on stairs." "Diapers. Soft ones. Premium absorbency." A magician tripped over a gift bag, and the present pile shifted but did not fall. The triplets shrieked with joy as the grandmother blew her whistle twice. Molly smiled like a wolf looking at a slow rabbit. "Diabolical. I love it." "Practice your bubble face. We go in twenty minutes." Bill practiced his bubble-blowing face in the rearview mirror, puffing his cheeks and narrowing his eyes like a man preparing to rob a casino, not a bounce house. Molly folded the stroller blanket into a perfect infant-sized lump and tested the squeaky wheel with her boot. The grandmother with the whistle turned toward the parking lot and squinted. Molly gave a friendly wave. Bill ducked. The pony ate a gift bow. Bill muttered something about needing a utility belt for the bubbles. Molly checked the time on a plastic unicorn watch. The piñata was a purple llama suspended from a basketball hoop. Its paper legs swayed. It was almost time. Heist was on. "I call the big one Bitey."