Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PC9J429ZCMQFTEZ3HDQKY

Bill spread the blueprint across the bonnet of the van and smoothed it flat with both hands. "Right. Target's the Henderson residence. Little Timmy turns seven at two o'clock sharp." "Why is the map in crayon?" Molly asked. "I stole it off Timmy. He drew his house for school. Very detailed. Look, he labelled the dog." "He labelled the dog 'Mr. Farts.'" "Intelligence is intelligence, Molly." Molly sighed and tugged at her balaclava, which her nan had knitted in the shape of a strawberry, complete with little green leaves on top. "Walk me through it." "Phase one. We go in disguised as the entertainment. I'm Bongo the Clown. You're Princess Sparkleberry." "Absolutely not." "Costume's already paid for. Non-refundable. Phase two, while the kids are distracted by my balloon animals, you slip into the lounge where the presents are stacked." "Can you actually make balloon animals?" "I can make a snake." "Everything's a snake if you're bad at it." "Exactly. Foolproof." Bill tapped a purple scribble that was either the garden or a very large bruise. "Phase three. We load the presents into the bouncy castle." Molly stared at him for a long, silent moment. "Why would we load them into the bouncy castle?" "Because the bouncy castle is ours. I rented it. Nobody suspects a bouncy castle leaving a party. It's the perfect getaway vehicle." "It doesn't have wheels, Bill." "It has air, Molly. Air is basically momentum." She pinched the bridge of her strawberry nose. "What's the haul looking like?" Bill produced a notebook with a unicorn on the cover. "Forty-two presents. Grandma Henderson alone bought eleven. She's our whale." "And what's in them?" "Video games. Drones. One of those robot dogs that costs more than my flat." "Could also be socks." "Nobody gives a seven-year-old socks." "Grandmas do. Grandmas are the number one source of socks in this country." Bill went pale beneath his stubble. "Then we leave the soft ones. Squeeze test on everything." "And the exit signal?" "When Timmy blows out the candles, I shout 'Happy birthday!' and that means grab everything." "Bill, everyone will be shouting 'Happy birthday.'" He blinked slowly. "Then it'll be a very well-coordinated grab." A small voice piped up from the back of the van. "Can I come?" They both spun around. A boy in a dinosaur jumper sat cross-legged among the costume boxes, calmly eating a custard cream. "Timmy?" Bill hissed. "How did you get in here?" "You left the door open when you stole my drawing. Are you really stealing my presents?" Molly crouched down to his level. "Hypothetically. How would you feel about that?" Timmy chewed thoughtfully, spraying crumbs onto Princess Sparkleberry's tiara. "If you take Grandma's, I'll help. She always gets socks." Molly looked at Bill. Bill looked at Molly. Somewhere outside, a bouncy castle sagged in the breeze. "Kid," Bill said, extending a gloved hand with great solemnity, "welcome to the crew."