Run: 2026-09-23-01M37PXWZKQK2H45ZD070KH5QR

Molly crouched behind the ice cream truck, binoculars pressed to her face. "There it is. The present table. Thirty gifts, minimum. I see a bicycle with a bow on it." Bill checked his watch. "The clown goes on break at two. That's our window." "Clowns take breaks?" "Union rules. Twenty minutes. We'll be in and out in fifteen." Molly lowered the binoculars. "What about the parents?" Bill grinned and pulled a lanyard from his jacket. "Catering staff. I've got the polo and everything." "You bought a polo?" "Borrowed. From Gary. Gary's a caterer. It's fine." "It's not fine, Bill. Gary's six foot four. That polo looks like a sausage casing." "Nobody looks at the caterer, Molly. That's the whole point of catering." Molly sighed and studied the backyard again. "Fine. I'll handle the piñata distraction. You work the present table. And Bill?" "Yeah?" "If a single child cries, we abort. I have a reputation." "You steal from orphans, Molly." "Orphans don't cry, Bill. They're stoic. Children with parents are the problem." Bill shouldered the empty gift bags. "Fair point. Two o'clock. Ready?" Molly snapped the binoculars shut. "Let's ruin a birthday."