Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KCRF52ABC1CFPHWZ9RV189

“I’m telling you, Bill, it’s the perfect score,” Molly whispered, jabbing a finger at the crumpled invitation in her partner’s palm. “Rainbow Ridge Daycare. Annual end-of-summer party. Parents drop off gifts at nine, party starts at ten, and by noon every kid in the district is hopped up on juice and sugar while the adults do a ‘quiet hour’ in the parking lot.” Bill squinted at the crayon-drawn unicorn on the invite. “We’re stealing from toddlers.” “We’re stealing from parents who buy toddlers electric scooters. Big difference.” “I don’t know, Moll. My mom always said you don’t rob a birthday party unless it’s your own.” “Your mom also said you’d make a terrible burglar because you’re six-foot-four and terrified of clowns.” “That’s not true. I’m not terrified of clowns. I’m cautious of clowns. There’s a difference.” “Okay, cautious. Fine. But that’s why we’re hitting the gift table, not the face painter. You’ll be in and out before a single balloon animal gets twisted.” Bill shifted his weight, and the floorboard creaked under his boot. “Logistics. How do we even get in?” “We walk in through the front door,” Molly said. “You’re wearing a party hat and a sash that says ‘Uncle Fun.’ I’m Auntie Giggle. We carry a big cardboard box labeled ‘Donations for the Less Fortunate.’ The staff sees a box, they think we’re with the church.” “And when we don’t know any of the kids’ names?” “We call every child ‘champ’ or ‘sport.’ Nobody notices. Parents do that all the time.” “Okay, but what about the gift table? There’s gonna be a volunteer guarding it like it’s Fort Knox.” Molly smiled. “That’s where the decoy comes in. You sneak around the back, let loose a jar of crickets in the bouncy castle. Chaos. Kids screaming, adults screaming, volunteer abandons post. Meanwhile, I’m already behind the table with my ‘lost and found’ bin.” “You want me to release live animals at a children’s party.” “They’re pets, Bill. Temporary pets. And they’re for the greater good.” “I feel like we’re the bad guys here.” “We’re not bad guys. We’re redistribution specialists. These kids have too many presents. We have too few. Static economy. Boom. We fix it.” Bill stared at the invitation again. “What if we get caught?” “We don’t get caught. You’re the lookout. I’m the grabber. Professor Pickleface does the heavy lifting.” “Who’s Professor Pickleface?” “Our getaway driver. I got him from a clown college. He flunked out, but he can parallel park.” Bill sighed. “I’m in. But if we get arrested, I’m telling the judge you made me dress as Uncle Fun.” “It’s a deal, champ.” “Don’t call me champ.”