Run: 2026-10-20-01M5C68ZEXTW4BV40WQQXYPQBT

Molly adjusted the van’s mirror and watched tiny pirates and princesses funnel through a door decorated with balloon dinosaurs. A bouncy castle wheezed in the backyard. “Remind me why we’re robbing a six-year-old’s birthday party instead of a bank?” Bill lowered his binoculars. “Banks have guards, cameras, and consequences. Birthday parties have cake.” “They also have parents.” “Slow parents. Tired parents. Parents who’ve handed out juice boxes and lost the will to police anything.” Molly counted the gifts stacked beside the bouncy castle: three boxes, one gift bag, and something shaped suspiciously like a television. “And the entry?” Bill produced a limp clown suit from a duffel bag. “I go in as Mr. Wiggles. You’re my assistant, Mrs. Wiggles.” “I am not being Mrs. Wiggles.” “Then you can be the birthday magician.” “I don’t do magic.” “You made our landlord believe the rent was coming. That’s magic.” Molly rubbed her forehead and watched a father in a superhero cape stagger past with a giant gift box. “What about the birthday kid?” “We leave one present. A nice one. A book.” “A book?” “Books are educational. We’re not monsters.” “We’re stealing from a six-year-old.” “We’re redistributing joy. Efficiently.” Bill tapped the dashboard as a mother carried out a cake. “Simple plan. You trip over the clown. I grab the pile. We leave before the singing starts.” “That’s your plan?” “It worked at the wedding.” “We got banned from three counties.” “We got banned from three counties and kept the blender.” Molly pulled on gloves. “What if they sing?” “Then we sing too. Blend in. Happy birthday, tiny mark.” “You’re going to hell, Bill.” “Probably. But I’ll be early, and I’ll bring a gift bag.” The party had spread into the garden: a piñata shaped like a llama, a table of cupcakes, and a hired entertainer warming up a puppet. Molly noted two exits, one hedge, and a dog that looked suspiciously alert. “The dog’s a problem,” she said. Bill squinted. “That’s a golden retriever.” “That’s a witness.” “He’s wearing a party hat.” “Exactly. He’s undercover.” Molly watched the entertainer produce a rabbit from a hat. “We could use him. A real magician creates chaos.” “Or he creates witnesses,” Bill said. “Stick to the clown. Clowns are invisible at children’s parties.” “No one trusts a clown.” “Exactly. They’re too busy judging.” A child in a tutu pointed at the van. Molly ducked. “He’s pointing.” “He’s waving,” Bill said. “Waving is pointing with optimism.” “Then we’re doomed.” Molly stared at the clown suit, then at the pile of presents. “One present. We leave one present.” “The book.” “The book.” Bill grinned and started the van. “Mrs. Wiggles, let’s go ruin a childhood.”