Run: 2026-10-06-01M48W5BEHG215DVCF8XN3RVKZ

The warehouse smelled like rust and broken dreams, which Molly found oddly comforting. She spread the party invitations across a folding table, each one featuring a grinning dinosaur wearing a party hat. "They're seven," she said, tapping a pink envelope. "Seven-year-olds. The presents will be unwrapped by nine." Bill leaned against a stack of empty pallets, arms crossed. "You want to rob children." "I want to rob parents who don't appreciate what they have." Molly adjusted her glasses. "Do you know how much a LEGO Hogwarts Castle costs? Nine hundred dollars. For a child who'll lose interest by Tuesday." "And you'll sell it where? eBay? 'Slightly sticky, played with once by a seven-year-old named Tyler'?" "Facebook Marketplace. I have seventeen aliases." Molly pulled out a clipboard. "The Henderson party. Saturday, two to five. Backyard, tent, thirty kids. The presents go in the corner by the bounce house." Bill scratched his chin. "You're going to walk into a children's party." "I'm going to walk into a children's party as a magician." "As a magician." "Mr. Bumbles. I've got the costume." She produced a purple top hat from her bag, complete with a rabbit that had seen better days. "The parents hire entertainment. I perform, I case the joint, I signal you through the window." "And I'm what? The balloon guy? The guy who gets chased by a golden retriever?" "You're my assistant. Disguised as a dad." Molly handed him a polo shirt with a faded logo. "You blend in. You're forgettable. That's your superpower, Bill." Bill looked at the shirt like it had personally offended him. "I'm not forgettable." "You wore the same jeans for nine days last month." "They were clean." "They were not clean." Bill sighed and took the shirt. "What's the exit strategy?" "Back door. I've mapped it. There's a shed, then a fence, then the Hendersons' neighbor has a Rottweiler named Princess who, according to Yelp reviews, 'doesn't actually bite, just sounds scary.'" "That's not reassuring." "Nothing is reassuring. That's why we do this." Molly checked her watch. "We go in at 2:15. The cake comes out at 3:30. That's our window. Fifteen minutes to load a minivan with presents while children scream about frosting." "And if a kid sees us?" "We're Mr. Bumbles and his dad. We're leaving early. Kids don't question adults who look bored." She zipped her bag. "You bring the van?" "Van's gassed. I also got us matching lanyards." He produced two plastic badges on strings. One read HELLO MY NAME IS BILL, the other said SECURITY. "Security?" "You said I'm forgettable. Security is the opposite of forgettable. Parents will assume I'm watching the presents." He clipped his badge on. "Also, I practiced my dad voice. Listen." He cleared his throat and said, "Tyler, buddy, maybe don't eat that crayon." Molly stared at him. "That's... actually good." "Thank you. I have range." "Bill, you're forty-three. You've never met a child." "I've met children. I just don't like them." He checked his phone. "Party's forty minutes away. You want to stop for coffee? Somewhere with a bathroom?" "We don't have time for bathrooms. We have time for crime." Bill nodded slowly, the way he did when Molly said something he found either brilliant or deeply concerning. "Molly. If this goes wrong, if a child actually sees us, if we end up on the news as 'the present-stealing magician and his accomplice'..." "Then we pivot. We become children's entertainers. Full time. We do birthday parties. We make it legitimate." "You'd be a terrible magician." "I'd be an adequate magician. You'd be an adequate dad. Together, we'd be unstoppable." She stood, grabbing her bag. "Keys?" Bill tossed her the van keys. "You drive. I'll navigate and pretend to be disappointed in my life choices." "That's your natural state." "Rude." "Accurate." They walked to the van, two thieves in polo shirts, heading toward a tent full of dinosaur decorations and the sweet, sticky promise of nine hundred dollars worth of LEGO. Somewhere, a child was probably already crying about a juice box. Molly smiled. It was going to be a good afternoon.