Run: 2026-10-09-01M4FYR833M1B9SQTQBRHBP56H

Molly leaned over the sticky table in the back booth of Gus's Diner, tapping a crumpled map with one red fingernail. "The party's at the Hendricksons' place on Maple Street. Two o'clock, twelve kids, one very large bouncy castle." Bill squinted at the map, then at the coffee stain covering half of Maple Street. "Is that a moose or a house?" "It's a house, Bill. The moose is the Hendricksons' inflatable dinosaur. Pay attention." "I'm paying attention. I'm just saying, a dinosaur is a big thing to have at a party." He scratched his chin. "What's the plan again?" "Simple. We walk in dressed as clowns, we grab every present with a bow on it, and we walk out before anybody notices the cake's been smeared on the sofa." "Clowns." Bill's voice went flat. "You want us to dress as clowns." "It's the perfect disguise. Nobody looks twice at a clown. They're too busy being terrified of them." "I'm not wearing the big shoes." "You'll wear the big shoes, and you'll like it." Molly slid a paper bag across the table. Inside was a rainbow wig and a squeaky nose. "Also, these. Sized for a grown man's face. I checked." Bill pulled out the nose and gave it a squeeze. It honked loudly. Two old men at the counter turned around. "Shh!" Molly hissed. "We're professionals." "Professionals don't honk." "Professionals adapt." She tapped the map again. "Now, the tricky part. The back gate has a dog. Mr. Pickles. He's small, fluffy, and he hates everyone." "Everyone?" "Everyone. But he loves squeaky noses. Apparently it's a whole thing with him." Bill grinned slowly. "So you're saying I'm the dog's new best friend." "I'm saying you're the distraction. I go in through the side window while you honk at Mr. Pickles and do your best balloon-animal routine." "I can't make balloon animals." "You'll make a poodle. Everyone makes a poodle." Bill sighed and stuffed the nose in his pocket. "And if somebody catches us?" Molly smiled sweetly. "Then we cry. Loudly. Kids cry at parties all the time, and nobody questions a grown man in a clown wig who's sobbing into a birthday cake." "That's the worst plan I've ever heard." "It's the best plan you've ever heard. You just don't know it yet." She folded the map and tucked it into her coat. "Two o'clock. Don't be late, and bring a bigger bag. Last time you came back with one sock and a mouse." "That mouse was a gift." "That mouse bit me." Bill stood, adjusted his wig, and honked once more for good measure.