Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KRVS1FMNV13JBN3H969DNF

Molly spread the crayon drawing across the kitchen table like it was a blueprint for the Louvre. Bill peered over her shoulder with a half-eaten donut and a look of professional concern. "Okay, so the target is Timmy's seventh birthday. Suburban cul-de-sac, three o'clock Saturday. Presents are in the living room, cake is in the kitchen, and the parents are distracted by a piñata." "Piñata's a good sign," Bill said. "Means noise cover." "Means kids are blindfolded and swinging at nothing," Molly said. "Perfect." "What's the ingress?" "Back gate is unlocked. Mrs. Henderson leaves it open for the dog. We come in through the yard, climb the fence, drop into the playroom window. Presents are stacked on the rug like a small mountain." Bill tapped the drawing where a stick figure with a party hat was labeled DAD. "Security?" "One dad, one mom, six kids under eight, and a goldfish. The dad is holding a beer and talking about his fantasy football team. The mom is on her phone. The kids are sticky." "That's not security, that's a liability," Bill said. "They'll scream." "That's the plan. We wear costumes. We blend." "Costumes?" "Clowns," Molly said. "I got two cheap clown suits from the thrift store. Big shoes, red noses, wigs. No one questions clowns at a kids' party." "Everyone questions clowns," Bill muttered. "But okay. What's the exit?" "Same way in. We fill the pillowcase, we bounce." "Bounce?" "Literally. The trampoline in the backyard. We toss the bag over the fence, land, run." Molly pointed to a scribbled note in the margin. "One problem. The presents. They're wrapped. Some of them are huge." "So we take them unwrapped." "We can't unwrap them. That's more evidence." Bill sighed and took a bite. "Fine. We take the whole pile. Pillowcase, muscle through." "And if a kid hugs us?" "Then we cry and say we're sad clowns." "That tracks." "Timeline?" "Party starts at two. Parents arrive at one thirty to set up. We go in at two forty five, when the presents are out but before opening. Ten minute window. In, grab, out before the Happy Birthday song." Bill nodded slowly. "And the presents?" "We sell them on Facebook Marketplace. Unwrapped is better, but wrapped adds mystery. Mystery box, birthday edition." "You're a genius." "I'm a professional." "You're a thief who once stole a bouncy castle." "And returned it." "With a hole in it." Molly grinned. "Details. Saturday, three o'clock. Clown suits, pillowcase, and no squealing." "Deal." The doorbell rang. Bill looked up. "Who the hell is that?" Molly peeked through the blinds. "It's the mailman. Probably Timmy's presents early." "Then we start early," Bill said, standing up. "Get the suits on. I'll bring the rope." Molly was already pulling the red nose from her pocket. "Rule one," she said. "No balloons," Bill said. "Rule two," Molly said. "Don't make eye contact with the goldfish."