Run: 2026-10-09-01M4FXQG8JZKD88QER26B105FH

Molly tapped the blueprint of the Henderson mansion with a pencil she'd stolen from a dentist's office. "Okay, Bill. Final review. The party starts at two. The piñata is at the east lawn. The presents are in the sunroom." Bill adjusted his fake mustache, which kept drooping toward his left ear. "And what's our cover?" "We're clowns." "We're not clowns, Molly. I don't have the shoes for it." "You have the shoes. You bought them yesterday. They're enormous." Bill sighed and looked down at his size-fourteen yellow clown shoes. "Fine. But I'm not doing the balloon animals again. Last time I made a giraffe that looked like a lawsuit." "Nobody expects perfection from a clown." Molly snapped a plastic nose onto her face. "Now, the security. There's one guard, Gerald, who is apparently afraid of birthday cake." "How do we know that?" "I read his social media. He posted a photo of himself hiding behind a frosting table with the caption 'Not today, Satan.'" Bill nodded slowly. "So we bring cake." "We bring cake." They loaded a tray of cupcakes into the van, along with a fog machine, three bags of glitter, and a kazoo that Bill refused to explain. Molly checked her watch. "Two-fifteen. The kids should be eating by now. Sugar rush in twenty minutes, nap time in forty-five. That's our window." "Why do we need the presents again?" "Because Mrs. Henderson's son turns seven, and I'm not letting a seven-year-old have a Lego castle that cost more than my car." Bill paused. "That's surprisingly principled of you." "I have layers, Bill." They crept through the hedge maze, Bill tripping only twice and Molly whispering, "Stop announcing yourself with that kazoo." They reached the sunroom window. Inside, a tower of gift boxes glittered under the chandelier. "Okay," Molly whispered. "Quick, quiet, professional. In and out." Bill raised his cupcake tray dramatically. "Ready when you are." From across the lawn, a small voice shrieked, "CLOWNS!" Molly froze. "Oh no." Within seconds, a dozen children came sprinting across the grass, screaming with delight. "Maybe," Bill said, grinning under his mustache, "we should just stay and do the balloon animals."