Run: 2026-09-23-01M37P2MVY6B9BYW2JMW7H1JTF

Molly spread the blueprints, which were really a hand-drawn map of the Pemberton backyard on the back of a pizza menu, across the hood of the getaway van. Bill leaned in, squinting through the drizzle, his fake moustache peeling at one corner. "The bouncy castle is our weak point," Molly said. Bill nodded gravely. He had once been ejected from a bouncy castle by a furious six-year-old named Trevor, and the wound had never healed. According to their intelligence, gathered mostly by pretending to deliver a trampoline, forty-three presents would be stacked beside the cake table by two o'clock. Most were wrapped in dinosaur paper. At least one was rumored to contain a remote-control helicopter, which Bill wanted badly enough to rethink his whole life. "We go in dressed as clowns," Bill whispered. Molly considered the risks. Clowns attracted children. Children asked questions. Children also bit, a fact she had learned the hard way at a christening in Leeds. "Clowns never get searched," Bill added. She folded the pizza menu into a tidy square and slipped it into her sock, where she kept all important documents. "Bring extra balloons." Bill saluted proudly, and his moustache finally fell into a puddle.