Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KS1HDQJEDX7TFC4A92G1W6

Molly spread the flyer across the kitchen table like it was a blueprint for the Louvre. The glitter was already peeling off the paper. Bill in socks slurped cold coffee and squinted at the address. Eight year old Timmy's birthday, Saturday three to five, backyard bounce house, RSVP to Mom. A mountain of presents under a plastic tablecloth. Perfect. Molly tapped the photo of Timmy grinning with a dinosaur cupcake. She said this is low risk high reward. Bill said kids don't have security systems, they have juice boxes. Molly said exactly, and juice boxes are a distraction. Bill said you just want to steal a plastic dinosaur. Molly said I want the whole pile. The plan was simple on paper and ridiculous in practice. Infiltrate as party entertainers. Molly had ordered a sequined unicorn onesie online. Bill had convinced his nephew to lend him a clipboard and a name tag that said Party Pro. They would arrive at 2:45, set up, wait for parents to get distracted by cake, and lift the presents while the children were in the bounce house. Molly said the bounce house is genius, it holds them for twenty minutes. Bill said twenty minutes is enough time to steal a small forest of wrapping paper. Molly said we take everything, Bill. All of it. Bill said that's greedy, we take half and leave thank you notes. Molly said thank you notes are a liability. The back door would be propped open for the caterer. The presents would be clustered near the patio. Molly would be the magician, Bill would be the face painter. Face paint means kids stay still. Magician means kids watch hands. Both jobs give them plausible reasons to be near the loot. Bill said what if Timmy cries. Molly said Timmy cries every year, his mom posted it on Facebook last year. Bill said you're a monster. Molly said I'm a professional. They rehearsed the entrance in the hallway. Molly stumbled in the onesie horn. Bill tripped over the clipboard. The cat watched them with judgment. Molly said okay, we need a getaway car. Bill said my Honda has a trunk big enough for presents and shame. Molly said perfect. Bill said what about the parents. Molly said they will be too busy taking photos of the cake to notice a magician disappearing with a sack of presents. Bill said and if they do. Molly said we tell them we were hired by the Tooth Fairy. Bill laughed then stopped. Molly was serious. He said you're not actually going to blame the Tooth Fairy. Molly said it's a classic misdirection. Bill said it's a felony. Molly zipped up the unicorn onesie and grinned. She said it's not a felony if no one files a report because they're busy comforting a kid who lost his gifts. Bill said that is the most morally bankrupt logic I've ever heard. Molly said that's why you're working with me. Bill checked the name tag. It read Party Pro. He said it needs a last name. Molly said just put Pro. Bill said Pro is not a last name. Molly said it is now. She pulled a duffel bag from under the table and began stuffing it with gloves, zip ties, and a small crowbar shaped like a carrot. Bill said you brought a carrot crowbar. Molly said it's for the kids, it's a prop. Bill said it's for breaking things. Molly said same thing. The clock ticked. They had three days to perfect the distraction routine. Molly wanted a trick where she pulled a rabbit out of a hat full of presents. Bill said that's literally the heist. Molly said exactly. Bill said I'm going to regret this. Molly said you already bought the onesie for me. Bill said I bought it for the costume rental. Molly said same thing. The flyer fluttered to the floor. Outside the rain started. Somewhere a child was probably already excited about presents he would never see.