Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KCCJZWFB0YZQAE18MWR1CT

Molly spread a hand-drawn map on the diner table, nudging aside a sticky syrup bottle and a bent fork. The map had a crayon unicorn in one corner and the words OPERATION SUGAR RUSH written in wobbly letters. She tapped the unicorn with a plastic spoon. Bill slid into the booth, wiped the cracked vinyl seat with a napkin, and studied her face as though she had just suggested robbing a hospital. "I scouted a birthday party for Saturday," she said. "Little Brayden is turning six. There will be forty presents, one bouncy castle, and a piñata full of candy and questionable chocolate." Bill picked up the map and held it at arm's length. A smear of grape jelly had landed on the unicorn's horn. "You want to rob a child's birthday party. That's not a heist, Molly. That's a cry for help." "It's a redistribution of unearned gifts. Those kids will only remember the cake. Brayden won't miss one fire truck or thirty dollars of building bricks." He tapped the unicorn. "Why does the unicorn have a knife?" "That's a carrot. She's a party unicorn. Focus, Bill." Molly reached into her enormous tote bag and produced two red foam clown noses. She placed them on the table between the ketchup and a dented napkin dispenser. Bill stared at the noses like they were spiders. "We're going in as children's entertainers," she said. "I paint faces. You twist balloon animals. While the parents argue about juice boxes and gluten, we load the gift table into the stroller." Bill raised one eyebrow. A ketchup stain on his collar resembled a tiny stab wound. "We don't have a stroller." "I borrowed a double-wide all-terrain model from my cousin. It has cup holders and a cargo net. We'll look like exhausted parents fleeing a sugar crash." Bill shuddered at the memory of a stroller getaway involving a runaway meatball. "Where do we put the scooter?" "We keep the scooter. I've always wanted a scooter." "You'll break your hip." "I'll break it with joy." He rubbed his temples and gave her the look he usually reserved for climbing through air ducts. The waitress dropped a pan in the kitchen, and he flinched. "What about the piñata?" Molly grinned. She leaned forward, and her chair made a sound like a small animal in distress. Outside, a balloon salesman's shadow passed the window. "Phase two. I replace the string with high-test fishing line. When birthday mom yanks it, the donkey explodes in a cloud of glitter, pretzel snacks, and chaos. We slip out during the blind glitter cloud." "Exploding piñata. That seems excessive." "Comedic heist, Bill. You have to embrace the silly." Bill folded the map along the unicorn's neck and sighed. "Fine. But if a toddler bites me, or a clown gets territorial, I'm taking the scooter and leaving you behind." "Deal. Now let's go steal some childhood joy." They left the diner arguing about whether the bouncy castle could support two adults hiding behind it.