Run: 2026-10-09-01M4FXPMEK964EDQ2W6XSRJF3C

Molly leaned against the lamppost, pretending to read a soggy flyer for a bouncy castle. Bill crouched beside the hedge, peering through the gap at the brightly lit house across the street, where forty-two balloons bobbed in the front window. "Right," Molly whispered. "Tell me again why we're robbing a birthday party." "Because the presents are the most valuable thing on this street," Bill said. "Think about it. Nobody checks a bag of Lego for security tags." "We are not stealing a seven-year-old's Lego." "Not just Lego. There's a dinosaur kit in the blue box. Bloke at the shop said it cost more than my car." Molly sighed and checked her watch. "Fine. Walk me through the plan, and keep it short. My feet hurt and I've got a sugar headache from the cupcake smell." Bill unfolded a napkin covered in crayon drawings. "Phase one. We go in through the back gate, because the clown is always by the front." "There's a clown?" "Hired clown. Very intimidating. Juggles knives, probably." "Those are balloon animals, Bill." "Balloon animals can strangle you if they're mad enough." He tapped the napkin. "Phase two. We slip into the living room while everyone's watching the pass-the-parcel game. Grab the presents from under the tree. Phase three, we walk out holding them like we're the uncles who forgot the card." Molly stared at him. "Bill, that's not a heist. That's a birthday party with extra steps." "It's elegant in its simplicity." "What happens when a child notices a grown man carrying twelve gift bags?" Bill paused. "Then we distract them with a magic trick." "You don't know any magic tricks." "I know one. I make things disappear, usually my wages." From inside the house came a roar of cheering, then the squeal of a whistle. Molly's shoulders dropped. "They're doing musical chairs. That means everyone's in the living room now." "Perfect," Bill said, standing up and brushing grass from his knees. "Stay low. Wait for the cake." "Why the cake?" "Because when they sing, nobody hears a thing. Except the dog. Dogs are a problem." Molly grabbed his sleeve. "Bill, there's a dog?" "Probably. Dogs at parties always have hats." She groaned. "I'm going home." "You can't. You're holding the bags." She looked down. Two empty tote bags dangled from her fingers, already printed with cartoon rabbits. "Right," she said. "Let's go steal some presents."