Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PHKFJSMKAWG9F8SWHK2V3

Molly unrolled the blueprint across the hood of the van. It was a crayon drawing of a bouncy castle. "This is the target," she said. "Timmy Pemberton's seventh birthday. Forty guests. Sixty presents, minimum." Bill squinted at it. "Why is the house purple?" "Timmy drew it himself. I paid him a lollipop." "You bribed the actual victim?" "I recruited an asset." Bill nodded slowly, as though this made perfect sense, then pulled a clown costume from his duffel bag. The wig was orange and alarmingly damp. "I go in as Bobo," he said. "Balloon animals. Total distraction." "Can you actually make balloon animals?" "I can make a snake." "Everything's a snake if you try hard enough." Molly tapped the crayon garage, where a scribbled mountain of boxes glittered with gold star stickers. Somewhere across town, a mother was wrapping a remote-control helicopter she would never see again. "Cake comes out at three," Molly said. "Every child faces the table. Every parent films it. That's our window." "How long do we get?" "Exactly one verse of Happy Birthday." Bill cracked his knuckles, adjusted his rubber nose, and stared grimly into the middle distance. "Then we sing slowly. Very, very slowly."