Run: 2026-09-23-01M37NVTMJP4EAH8WH9PB60DD9

"Right," said Molly, unrolling the blueprint. "Timmy Pemberton's seventh birthday. Two o'clock. Forty guests, sixty presents minimum." "Sixty?" Bill whistled. "What's the kid done to deserve sixty?" "Nothing. His parents feel guilty about the divorce. That's our window." "And how do we get in?" "You're the entertainment." She handed him a folder. "Bongo the Clown." "I hate clowns." "Children hate clowns too, Bill. That's the beauty. Nobody will look at you directly." "What about the bouncy castle?" "Decoy. At two-fifteen, I puncture it. Mass hysteria. Parents scramble. You grab the gift table and walk out the back gate." "Sixty presents? I've got two arms, Molly." "You've got balloon animals. Tie them together, make a sort of... raft." "A raft. Molly, this is a garden, not the Atlantic." "A floating raft of stolen joy." Bill stared. "What if the kid cries?" "Timmy won't cry. Timmy bit a magician last year. That's why they need a clown." "He bit a magician?" "Drew blood. The rabbit's still in therapy. Went in the hat, came out with a limp. Nobody talks about it." Bill donned the red nose. "I want hazard pay." "You'll get cake." "What kind of cake?" "Stolen."