Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKAA60DH6WFX6EBBESQQEMM

Molly crouched behind the hedge, peering through the slats of the picket fence at a backyard exploding with balloons and frosting. Kids shrieked like tiny sirens. Somewhere, a piñata took a beating. Bill adjusted his knit cap, which did nothing to make him less visible in daylight. “Tell me again why we’re robbing a children’s party.” “Because,” Molly whispered, “they’ve got the best loot: unopened presents, colorful paper, and parents too distracted to notice two adults acting suspicious.” Bill frowned. “We are two adults acting suspicious.” “Only if you think about it,” Molly said. She held up a clipboard. “We’ll be helpers.” “A clipboard makes you a helper?” “It makes you inevitable,” Molly said. “People see a clipboard and assume you’re in charge of something.” Bill squinted at the yard. A clown was twisting a balloon into what appeared to be a poodle suffering an existential crisis. “What’s the objective? We grab presents, we go. Like a normal crime.” Molly sighed. “No. We grab the presents without ruining the party. If the kids cry, we become villains. If the kids don’t notice, we’re… what? Party ghosts.” “I don’t want to be a party ghost,” Bill said. “My knees already make ghost noises.” Molly slid a folded map from her pocket, hand-drawn in marker. “Entry point: the side gate. Distraction: you. Extraction: the gift table, then the cooler path out.” “I’m the distraction?” Bill repeated. “You’ve got the face for it.” “That’s not a plan. That’s an insult dressed as choreography.” Molly tapped the map. “You’ll approach the magician and ask him if he can make your debt disappear. He’ll laugh, the kids will gather, and I’ll slide in.” Bill swallowed. “Magicians are unpredictable. They have capes. Capes mean secrets.” “Bill,” Molly said, calmer now, “remember the aquarium job? You were terrified of the octopus, but you still distracted the security guard by pretending to be a marine biologist.” “I said ‘marina’ biologist,” Bill muttered. “He corrected me for ten minutes. That was traumatic.” “And effective,” Molly said. “Now, gear check. You’ve got the tote?” Bill lifted an enormous reusable bag that said LIVE, LAUGH, LASAGNA. “This is the least criminal bag in existence.” “Exactly,” Molly said. “No one suspects lasagna.” Bill peered through the fence again. “The gift table’s right next to the parents. They’re circling it like vultures with minivans.” Molly grinned. “Parents are easy. Compliment their kid’s height, and they’ll talk for hours.” “I can’t compliment height,” Bill said. “I’m five-seven on a generous day.” “Then compliment their kid’s ‘energy,’” Molly said. “Parents love vague praise.” Bill took a deep breath. “What about the birthday kid? The target is technically their property.” “Our target is capitalism,” Molly said. “Also, half those gifts are just duplicates of the same dinosaur toy. We’re doing inventory control.” Bill stared at her. “You just made theft sound like a community service.” Molly tucked the clipboard under her arm and straightened her jacket. “We’re not stealing joy. We’re reallocating joy.” “And where is joy being reallocated?” Bill asked. “To us,” Molly said. “And later, to the pawn shop. Joy has overhead.” Bill rubbed his hands together, then froze. “Wait. What if the presents are labeled? ‘To Timmy, from Grandma.’ That’s evidence.” Molly produced a roll of stickers shaped like smiling suns. “We cover tags. No one questions a sun.” Bill hesitated. “They might question two adults applying suns to presents.” Molly leaned closer. “Smile like you’re helpful. If someone asks, you’re ‘organizing.’ People fear disorganization more than crime.” Bill nodded slowly. “Okay. But if we get caught, I’m blaming the lasagna bag.” “If we get caught,” Molly said, “we offer to lead an impromptu game. Criminals run. Helpers manage.” Bill stared at the clown again. “I can’t run or manage. I can only panic politely.” “Perfect,” Molly said. “Go panic at the magician.” Bill opened the side gate with a squeak. “If a child asks me why I’m here—” “Say you’re with the entertainment,” Molly said. “But I’m not entertaining.” “You will be,” Molly said, slipping in behind him. “Now go. Make that cape nervous.”