Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PJ6V7AT84DP0HJ668WFD7

Molly spread the map across the kitchen table, weighting the corners with a bag of gummy bears and a half-eaten sandwich. "Okay," she said, tapping the paper. "The party starts at two. Cake at three. That's our window." Bill squinted at the map. "This is a map of a bounce house." "It's the interior layout. I got it from the rental company." "You got a floor plan of a bounce house." "Recon, Bill. It's called recon." Bill ate a few gummy bears and set the bag back down. "I still don't like the clown thing." "You're not doing the clown thing. I'm doing the clown thing." "You can't do the clown thing. You're terrified of clowns." "That's why it's perfect. Nobody suspects a clown who's scared of herself." "That's not how fear works." Molly jabbed a finger at the map. "The presents get stacked on a table next to the piñata. Piñata's at three-fifteen. Every kid in that yard will be losing their minds trying to beat a donkey full of Snickers. That's when we move." "What about the parents?" "Magician's at three-thirty. Parents always watch the magician. They paid forty bucks for him. They want their money's worth." Bill considered this. "That's actually not terrible." "I know." "What about the birthday kid? Kids cry, Molly. Kids cry loud." "That's why you're on distraction duty." "I thought I wasn't doing the clown thing." "You're not. You're doing balloon animals." Bill stared at her. "I don't know how to make balloon animals." "You'll figure it out. It's a tube and air. How hard can it be?" "You said that about the zip line." "The zip line worked." "The zip line dropped you into a koi pond." "Recon pond." Bill stood, paced to the window, and looked out at the perfectly ordinary suburban street where, in forty-eight hours, they would commit the lowest-stakes crime of their careers. Somewhere out there was a folding table soon to be piled with wrapped boxes containing a game console, a telescope, and what Molly insisted was "a robot arm thing." "What if a kid sees us?" he asked. "Then you make them a balloon animal." "I don't know how to make balloon animals." "Then you make them a snake and call it a worm. Kids love worms. Kids are the easiest marks in the world." Bill sighed the sigh of a man who had once stolen a Monet and was now planning around nap schedules. "Fine. But if this goes wrong, I'm telling everyone the clown made me do it." "The clown is going to make herself do it," Molly said, folding the map with the reverence of a sacred document. "Now get your shoes. We're going to the party store. You need practice tubes." "Do I at least get a costume?" "You get a fanny pack and a name tag that says Gary." "Who's Gary?" "Gary is a man who makes balloon animals and asks no questions," Molly said, grabbing her keys. "Be Gary, Bill. Be Gary with your whole heart."