Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PS44DSB2K00RPY41PF2DP

Molly peered through binoculars at the bounce house, its plastic turrets swaying in the breeze. "The clown arrives at two," she whispered. "He's the key to everything." Bill studied the map spread across the dashboard. "You're telling me we're stealing presents from six-year-olds?" "We're redistributing presents. The birthday boy has forty-three gifts. Forty-three, Bill. Nobody needs forty-three." "That's still stealing, Molly." "That's wealth redistribution with wrapping paper." She jabbed a finger at the map. "The clown distracts them for exactly twelve minutes. That's our window." Bill sighed. "And if a kid sees us?" "Then you do the thing with the balloon animals. Kids love that." "I'm not doing the balloon thing." "You promised." "I promised under duress. And what about the piñata? You know what happens when I'm near sugar." Molly checked her watch. "The piñata is phase three. By then we'll be professionals." "We're stealing from children, Molly. There are no professionals here." She grinned, adjusting her party hat. "Correction: there are no professionals yet. Put on your hat. We're going in as caterers." Bill groaned. "We don't cater anything." "We do now. Grab the cake knife." "That's for cake, right?" "Sure, Bill. Cake."