Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK34CBDZG19WF76AZSHTHF5

"We can't do this, Bill. It's a birthday party. For a six-year-old." "Exactly, Molls. Six-year-olds have no concept of value. They think a stick found in the garden is worth more than gold. Imagine what they think actual gold looks like. It's a goldmine." "It's a moral swamp. Look at the target list. Lego sets, remote control cars, tablets. These are gifts from loving parents." "Loving parents who bought insurance. We are simply testing the security perimeter and providing a public service by removing excess clutter. Think of the chaos if that kid gets too many toys. Spoiled brat syndrome. We are saving the child's soul." "You are a monster. A absolute monster in a tracksuit." "I am a visionary. Now, look at the blueprints. The venue is the community hall behind the bakery. Side entrance is unlocked during the clown's balloon animal interlude. That's our window." "The clown? You want us to sneak in while a man in oversized shoes is making dogs out of latex?" "It's perfect cover. Everyone watches the clown. No one watches the shadows. Especially not when there's free punch involved. The sugar rush makes the adults sluggish. They'll be blinking in slow motion by eight PM." "And the security?" "Security is Mrs. Gable, the grandmother who thinks her job is to force-feed cake to anyone under four feet. She's the gatekeeper. We distract her with a fake allergy alert." "An allergy alert? To what?" "Peanuts. Everyone fears peanuts. She'll panic, run inside to check the labels, and leave the gift table completely unguarded. It's foolproof." "This is insane. We're going to jail for stealing My Little Pony figures." "Do you know what those things go for on the black market? Limited edition unicorns are hotter than diamonds in the underground collector scene. We aren't just stealing toys; we're securing our retirement." "Our retirement will be spent in a cell next to a guy who murdered someone with a spoon." "Stop being so dramatic. Grab the sack. The big one with the snowman on it. Nothing says 'innocent volunteer' like festive fabric." "I feel sick. Actually physically ill." "That's just the adrenaline. Or maybe it's the smell of that bakery next door. Focus, Molly. In and out. Five minutes max. We grab the big boxes first. Ignore the plushies unless they're limited edition Beanie Babies from the nineties." "There are no Beanie Babies at a modern party, Bill." "You don't know that. You never know. Always check the tags. Okay, the clown is starting his routine. See? He's dropping the balloon. Panic ensued. Now's our chance." "I can't believe I'm doing this. If we get caught, I'm telling them you forced me." "Sure, sure. Blame the mastermind. Just keep your head down and walk with purpose. If anyone asks, we're the new magicians." "The new magicians? We don't know any magic tricks." "Exactly. So if they ask for a trick, we say the magic is in the surprise, then we run. Ready?" "No. Never ready. But my legs are moving anyway." "That's the spirit. Remember, leave the wrapping paper. It slows us down. We want the goods, not the glossy finish. Go, go, go!" "God help us all." "Less praying, more pilfering. Look at that stack of board games. Jackpot." "That's Candy Land. It costs twelve dollars." "To you. To the right buyer, it's a fortune. Stop arguing and start stuffing. The clown is finishing the dog. We have thirty seconds before he notices two adults in black creeping toward the treasure chest." "He's looking over here!" "Smile! Wave! Act like you love balloon animals!" "I hate this. I really, really hate this." "Love the hustle, Molly. Love the hustle. Now grab the tablet and let's vanish before the cake cutting."