Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KY4KC8GMBWXZX0SE6TGVJ8

The ice-cream van smelled of stale waffle cones and regret. Across the street, a house thumped with music, squealing children, and a man in an inflatable dinosaur costume attempting the limbo. A deflated balloon wilted on the dashboard beside a half-eaten bag of gummy bears. Bill's knee bounced with the anxious rhythm of a man who had read one too many true-crime podcasts. Molly adjusted her fake nose. "Phase one: we walk in like we own it." Bill stared at her. "Like we own the place? Molly, it's a five-year-old's birthday party. The only people who do that are the birthday boy and the police." "Good thing I brought handcuffs and a badge reading 'Fun Inspector.'" "Fun Inspector?" Bill repeated. "You do realize the only qualification is a sticker gun and no shame." Molly grinned. "I have both. Plus this clipboard. Nobody questions a clipboard. Especially not parents who are three sangrias deep and pretending the piñata isn't judging them." Bill peered through the windshield. "There are forty kids, Molly. Forty. That's not a heist, that's a daycare riot with cake." "Exactly. Chaos is our camouflage." "Our camouflage is a clown wig and mouse onesie I stole from a college mascot." Molly pointed a pen at him. "Correction: borrowed. You look adorable. The tail alone will distract every toddler within a six-foot radius." Bill tugged the ears. The paws flopped. "I feel ridiculous." "You'll feel rich," Molly said. "The presents are on the table by the cake. We swap the piñata for my smoke-bomb, hit the lights during 'Pin the Tail,' grab the loot, vanish through the bouncy-castle exit." Bill blinked. "Bouncy-castle exit? You mean the emergency deflation chute?" "Every castle has one. I watched YouTube tutorial." "You watched a tutorial on escaping bouncy castle?" "I watched six. Very emotional." Bill groaned. "What if the birthday kid sees us?" Molly reached into the glove box and pulled out a glittery gift bag. "Then I hand him this." Bill opened it. "A whoopee cushion?" "Limited edition. Silent but deadly. He'll be delighted he'll declare us honorary uncles. Kids respect the whoopee cushion. It's the currency of the realm." Bill shook his head. "And if the parents catch us?" "Then we say we're entertainment. You're 'Mumbles the Mouse.' I'm 'Officer Gigglepants.' We do one magic trick, steal presents during the applause break, leave." "Officer Gigglepants has a ring to it," Bill muttered. "What's the magic trick?" "Simple. I make forty children disappear." Bill paled. "You can't—" "Metaphorically! I tell them to hide. We grab the presents while they're underneath." Bill considered. "That's actually... not terrible." "Thank you." "It's still terrible, just less so." Molly handed him a headset. "Ready?" Bill sighed. "If I die, tell my mother I died at a birthday party." Molly started the van's cheerful jingle. "She'll be proud. Put on your tail. We're going in as the gift table's worst nightmare." "Worst nightmare?" Bill asked, opening the door. "Yes," Molly said, stepping into the night. "Thieves who floss."