Run: 2026-10-13-01M4TBWM2H9T74H1PTMCCHK36B

Molly unrolled the blueprint across the hood of the car. "Okay. The Henderson kid's birthday party. Saturday, two p.m. Bounce house in the backyard, twenty guests, mountain of presents on the picnic table." Bill squinted. "We're robbing a seven-year-old." "We're liberating gift-wrapped merchandise. There's a difference." "Is there?" "Legally, no. Morally, also no. But financially? A kid that age gets a game console, three Lego sets, and at least one remote-control dinosaur. That's eight hundred bucks, easy." Bill rubbed his chin. "What's the security situation?" "One clown, a magician, and Denise, the birthday boy's grandmother, who watches the gift table like a hawk." "A hawk we can handle?" "A hawk with a wooden spoon and no grandchildren she likes more than Tyler." "So we go in disguised." "Exactly. You're the balloon animal guy." "I can't make balloon animals." "It's a kids' party, Bill. Make a snake. Everything's a snake. Kid asks for a giraffe? Snake with a long neck. Dog? Fat snake." Bill considered this. "What are you?" "Face painter. I'll set up near the gift table. You create a distraction at the bounce house, I sweep the presents into the duffel, we're gone by cake." "What kind of distraction?" "Pop a balloon. Fake an injury. Whatever feels true to you in the moment." "I don't love improv, Molly." "Then commit to the snake bit harder." Bill pointed at the blueprint. "What's this room?" "Bathroom." "And this?" "Another bathroom. Rich people, Bill." He nodded slowly. "Contingencies?" "If Denise clocks me, you yell 'piñata emergency' and we both run for the fence." "What's a piñata emergency?" "There isn't one. That's why it'll work. Nobody knows the protocol." Bill frowned. "And if the clown interferes?" Molly folded her arms. "Clowns are cowards. You look one in the eye, they fold. It's in the handbook." "We have a handbook?" "I'm writing the handbook. Chapter one: clowns fold." Bill went quiet a moment. "Molly. Be honest. Is this our low point?" "Our low point was the petting zoo." "The alpaca had it coming." "The alpaca had our wallet. We still don't know how." "Fair." He rolled up the blueprint. "One more thing. The cake. Do we—" "We are not stealing the cake." "I'm just saying, if we're already—" "Bill. We are thieves, not monsters." "Right. Sorry." He paused. "What if it's carrot cake, though? Nobody's going to eat—" "Focus." "Focusing." Bill pulled on a polka-dot tie. "For the record, the snake thing's going to kill." "Everything you make is going to be a snake." "A man needs a brand." Molly sighed and grabbed the duffel. "Saturday, two p.m. Presents out by cake. And Bill?" "Yeah?" "If a seven-year-old outsmarts you, I deny everything." "He won't." "He's in gifted math, Bill. Stay sharp."