Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PEX0755ZY5708XA0NX3S7

The blueprint of the Hendersons' backyard was spread across Molly's kitchen table, held down at the corners by a bag of gummy worms and a novelty mug that read World's Okayest Criminal. "Okay," said Molly, tapping the drawing with a pen. "The party starts at two. Cake at three. That's our window." Bill squinted at the blueprint. "Molly, this is a napkin. You drew this on a napkin. There's a ketchup stain where the bounce house goes." "Details. The point is, everyone's watching the magician at three. The presents table is here." She jabbed the pen. "Unattended." "Unattended? It's a children's party. There are going to be children there, Molly. Children and mothers. Mothers have eyes in the back of their heads, it's science." "That's why we go in disguised. I've got us matching costumes. We're going in as entertainers." Bill's face fell. "You bought the clown suits." "I bought the clown suits." "You said we'd discuss the clown suits!" "We're discussing them now." "Discussion implies the possibility of a no, Molly! There was never a possibility of a no!" "Do you have a better idea for blending in at a child's birthday party? Because I'd love to hear it." Bill paced the length of the kitchen. "Fine. Fine. But I'm not doing balloon animals. Last time I tried, I made something that looked like a haunted sausage and a kid cried." "You'll be on look-out. I'll handle the presents." "Look-out from where? It's a backyard, Molly. Where exactly are you hiding a lookout in a backyard?" "The bounce house." A pause. "The bounce house." "Yes." "You want our lookout positioned inside a device specifically engineered to bounce." "It's elevated. It has sightlines. It's tactical." "It's a bounce house, Molly! You can't stand watch in a bounce house! You'll be bounced! You'll be flailing around like a startled flamingo and every parent there will be filming it and we'll end up on the internet!" Molly folded her arms. "Then what's your plan, genius?" "Same plan as the Henderson job last year. We go in as the caterers, we load the presents into a van marked PARTY SERVICES, and we're gone before the piñata." "You got us banned from catering, Bill. You ate half the food before we got inside." "That was one time—" "You ate a birthday cake. At the birthday. In front of the birthday girl." "She was two! She won't remember!" "Her mother will remember! Her mother runs the neighborhood watch, Bill!" Bill sighed and dropped into a chair, picking up a gummy worm and chewing it thoughtfully. "Okay. New plan. Clown suits, you're on presents, I'm on the van. Nobody goes in the bounce house." "Agreed." "And Bill?" "What?" "If a child asks you for a balloon animal, you make them the haunted sausage. It's your signature now. Commit to the bit." Molly allowed herself a small smile. "Three o'clock. Cake time. In and out in eight minutes." "And if the magician asks us to participate in his act?" "Then, Bill, we improvise. We're professionals." "You cried during a card trick in 2019." "He cut my deck, Bill. Nobody touches my deck." At three o'clock sharp, two clowns slipped through the Hendersons' gate. By 3:09, the presents table was empty, the van was pulling away, and somewhere in the backyard, a magician was pulling an endless scarf out of his sleeve and wondering why nobody was watching.