Run: 2026-10-07-01M4AV96D68TXFMJQ1SQ5BEEV2

The basement smelled like stale pizza and dangerous ambition. Molly spread a greasy napkin across the folding table, tracing imaginary routes on the crayon-drawn map of the Chuck E. Cheese party three blocks away. Bill leaned against the rusted water heater, examining a plastic sword. "We're really doing this?" Bill asked. "We're thirty-two and forty-one. We have dental." "That's why we need the loot," Molly said, clicking her pen. "Jimmy Henderson's parents are loaded. Foil-embossed invitations. The kid probably has a trust fund and a pony." "He has three ponies," Bill said, sheathing the sword. "Mostly dinosaur toys, and a robot dog that costs more than my car." "Perfect. Distraction," Molly said, pulling out gummy bears. "We go during pizza frenzy. You create a diversion. I hit the gift table." "What kind? I was thinking birthday clown. I've got the shoes." "You look like a clown who robs banks," Molly said. "We need subtlety. Claim you're a health inspector. I've been practicing my authoritative cough. Flash a badge, say the cake is contaminated, evacuate the building." "Then we walk out with the presents?" "We blend in with the fleeing parents," Molly said, gesturing. "We've got party hats. We look like we belong there. We are the chaos we wish to exploit." "I don't know, Mol," Bill said, chewing a gummy bear. "This feels wrong. These are children's presents. Some kid is going to cry." "Some kid will get over it," Molly said. "Besides, that LEGO Death Star alone could pay my rent for six months. Maybe we get a place with a dishwasher. I'll make the badge from a cereal box." "Or we could not steal from literal children." "Fine. But I'm keeping the dinosaur," Molly said. "What dinosaur?" "The T-Rex with the light-up eyes. I want it." "You're impossible. Okay. Health inspector routine. But if a kid asks for my badge number, I'm punching him." "No punching children," Molly said. "We're thieves, not monsters. We have standards." "We're planning to rob a six-year-old's birthday party." "That's different. That's capitalism." The basement door creaked open. Mrs. Henderson stuck her head down the stairs. "Everything okay? I hear clinking." Bill froze, sword pressed to his chest. Molly smiled sweetly. "Just planning my daughter's party! Surprise! Shh!" "Oh! How exciting! When is it?" "Next... Saturday," Molly said quickly. "Very exclusive. Very... invitation-only." Mrs. Henderson disappeared. Bill exhaled shakily. "She bought it." "She totally bought it," Molly said, crumpling the napkin. "See? We're professionals." Bill looked at the sword in his hand, then at the party supplies on the table. "So we're doing this. For real." "We're doing this," Molly confirmed, high-fiving him. The plastic sword clattered. "To Jimmy's presents!" "To Jimmy's presents!" Bill echoed, raising his gummy bear. "We're monsters," Bill whispered. "Happy monsters," Molly corrected. "With dental," Bill added. "Eventually," Molly said.