Run: 2026-09-23-01M36NPGFEE0MCF9E3KH3Z8C2A

Molly spread the floor plan across the hood of their getaway van. It was printed on the back of a pizza menu, and a grease stain covered the north entrance. “Why are we stealing presents from a children’s party?” Bill whispered. “Because the host’s uncle is a diamond dealer,” Molly said. “The presents are in the hall. The diamonds are in his coat pocket.” “You told me we were stealing diamonds.” “We are. The presents are a distraction.” “From whom?” “Everyone.” Bill peered over the menu. Through the hedge, the party glowed with balloons and paper streamers. A banner proclaimed HAPPY SIXTH BIRTHDAY, ARTHUR. Beyond the window, children circled a table while a harried clown tried to untangle himself from a piñata. Bill lowered the binoculars. “That clown is armed.” “It’s a balloon pump.” “He’s holding it like a weapon.” “He’s a clown, Bill. Everything he holds looks threatening.” They had planned to enter through the side door during the birthday song, retrieve the uncle’s coat, and leave before anyone noticed. Molly had even rented a clown costume. Unfortunately, the costume came with shoes the size of rowboats and a painted smile that made her look like she had recently heard terrible news. Bill adjusted his borrowed party hat. “What’s my cover story?” “You’re the magician’s assistant.” “I don’t know any magic.” “You don’t need to. You just stand beside him and look disappointed.” The magician appeared in the window, wearing a cape and holding a rabbit. The rabbit stared at Bill with professional suspicion. “Actually,” Bill said, “I think the rabbit knows me.” “Impossible.” “I borrowed his hutch last winter.” Molly tucked the floor plan into her sleeve. “Stay focused. We enter, locate the coat, and exit.” “What about the presents?” “They’re not part of the job.” “Then why did you bring three empty duffel bags?” “For emergencies.” “What kind of emergency requires stealing forty-seven children’s gifts?” “The kind where the diamonds are hidden inside a talking dinosaur.” Bill considered this. “Do you know that’s true?” “No.” The birthday song began. They slipped through the side gate, crouching past a garden gnome that wore sunglasses and looked more heavily armed than the clown. At the door, Molly turned to Bill. “Remember: confident, cheerful, and don’t make eye contact with the parents.” “I can manage two of those.” They entered just as the final note rang out. Every child turned toward them. Molly waved. “Surprise!” A small boy pointed at Bill. “That’s not the magician’s assistant.” Bill stepped forward. “I’m his substitute.” “Where’s the magician?” “I’m here,” said a voice behind them. The real magician had followed them outside. The rabbit was still in his arms. Molly smiled brightly. “We’re the entertainment committee.” “You’re the burglars,” said the birthday boy. Bill glanced at Molly. “Kids are getting sharper.” “Don’t worry,” Molly whispered. “They’ll forget.” The boy held up a toy walkie-talkie. “Dad! The burglars are here!” From the kitchen came a crash, followed by a man shouting, “Not the cake!” Molly seized Bill’s sleeve. “Plan B.” “What’s Plan B?” “Leave.” They bolted, but the enormous clown shoes carried Molly straight into the gift table. Presents toppled everywhere. Bill caught one, then another, instinctively stacking them in his arms. “Put those down!” Molly yelled. “I’m saving them!” “From what?” “Us!” Behind them, the children cheered. The clown began juggling oranges. The magician produced a bouquet from Bill’s hat. Molly and Bill escaped empty-handed, pursued only by applause, one furious rabbit, and a six-year-old demanding his presents back.