Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKA1XFFP4G2BX3T5226AXHZ

Molly: Bill, the party across the street is set up like a fortress of joy and chaos, and we are the questionable folk who forgot our manners. Bill: It’s a glorious disaster plan in search of a purpose, and I’m ready to misplace our good sense for a laugh. Molly: We’ll go in as entertainers, two underfed raccoons in bow ties, spreading mischief with a smile. Bill: Raccoons in bow ties, I can see it now, the crowd roaring for our next blunder. Molly: The goal, if you must pretend to know, is to create a distraction so big it’s ridiculous. Bill: A distraction that involves juggling apples and instructing the punch bowl to sing. Molly: Or we could pretend to be talent scouts, looking for the next big party trick. Bill: The next big trick better be bigger than a cake, or we’ll vanish in embarrassment. Molly: We’ll rehearse a grand finale where confetti rains and every kid expects a showstopper. Bill: A showstopper that somehow ends with us returning every gift to its rightful home. Molly: We’ll tell the adults we’re researching crowd psychology, nothing more, nothing less. Bill: And if any grown-up asks for our act name, we’ll say “The Festive Fugitives” with pride. Molly: Pride is good, but we should also promise not to steal anything real. Bill: Agreed; we’re after the illusion of crime, not the actual inventory of happiness. Molly: The plan requires timing, energy, and a terrible sense of propriety that somehow feels right. Bill: Timing is everything, especially when you’re pretending to be clumsy virtuosos swinging balloon animals. Molly: We’ll let the kids enjoy the moment; our escape should be as polite as a cough. Bill: A polite cough that somehow sounds like a sneeze from a movie trailer. Molly: We’ll drift through the room, not touching anything, only tracing the air with our jokes. Bill: Tracing the air with jokes sounds safe and spectacular, like a parade for grownups who never grew up. Molly: If we must, we’ll swap the real presents with silly, homemade tokens that sparkle with whimsy. Bill: Homemade tokens that smell faintly of glue and ambition, which is perfect for the premise. Molly: We’ll deliver a grand reveal: we were never there to steal anything but imagination. Bill: Attained reputation: two harmless bandits who turned a heist into a comedy of errors. Molly: The kids will adore us for turning danger into dance, and the adults will forgive us. Bill: And in the aftermath, we’ll tell a cooler truth: crime is boring when it’s not clever. Molly: So we back out with dignity, and a bucket of glitter to remember the night by. Bill: We’ll tell the host we learned a valuable lesson about generosity and the mischief of good intentions. Molly: If anyone suspects we were serious, we’ll collapse into applause and declare victory for kindness. Bill: Then we’ll vanish not with loot, but with a story the kids will retell. Molly: A story about two adorably misguided thieves who chose laughter over larceny. Bill: And perhaps we’ll donate an actual gift or two later, to prove we’re redeemable. Molly: Redemption is a nice ending, especially when it’s presented with napkins, cake crumbs, and courage. Bill: Here’s to a heist that never happened and a friendship that sticks closer than tape. Molly: Then let’s practice our exit line: excuse us, kind party, we must depart to do nothing in particular. Bill: Perfect. We’ll bow, we’ll grin, and we’ll disappear behind a cloud of confetti.