Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKRNRT5KV1D54TWDWGJTDAG

Molly slipped a glittery mask over her eyes, the pink sequins catching the dim hallway light. She spread a crumpled flyer of a backyard birthday party on the kitchen table. 'We’re about to crash the most innocent crime scene ever,' she whispered, tapping the map of the garden. 'Balloon arches, cake, and a mountain of presents. Think of the loot!' Bill adjusted his oversized trench coat, a thrift‑store costume that squeaked with every move. 'I’ve got a distraction ready,' he said, holding a squeaky clown nose. 'Kids will think a real clown just appeared.' 'Molly, you’re on the snack grab,' Bill added, pointing at the stack of cupcakes. 'We need sugar to keep our energy up.' 'Exactly,' Molly replied, flipping a tiny notebook. 'Three entry points: side gate, garden shed, and the inflatable castle. The kids will be inside the castle, so we can slip through the side gate unnoticed.' Bill grinned. 'I’ll slip under the bouncy walls. No one will see a grown man in a superhero cape.' 'Molly, what about the parents?' Bill asked, eyes wide. 'They’re like security guards with laser eyes.' 'They’ll be distracted by the magician’s disappearing act,' Molly said, smirking. 'We’ll hide behind the piñata until the big reveal.' 'And the piñata is a perfect cover,' Bill muttered. 'We smash it, grab the candy, then the kids will be too busy shouting “Happy Birthday!” to notice us.' Molly laughed. 'If we get caught, we can claim we were hired to test safety.' Bill nodded. 'I’ve got a fake gold bar painted from cardboard for loot.' 'Perfect,' Molly said, snapping her fingers. 'We’ll meet at the garden shed at 3:07 p.m., just after the magician finishes the rabbit trick.' '3:07 p.m., got it,' Bill repeated, checking his watch. 'I’ll bring the sack, the glittery mask, and lock picks shaped like candy canes.' 'And I’ll bring a portable speaker for distraction music,' Molly added, tapping the device. 'We’ll play “Baby Shark” on loop. Love it, and it drowns out alarm.' 'All set,' Bill said, stuffing the sack. 'We’ll leave with more presents than Santa’s workshop.' Molly smiled. 'And we’ll have the best story to tell at the next heist convention: The Great Kids’ Gift Heist.' They exchanged a high‑five, slipped out into the night, footsteps muffled by soft grass and distant giggles of children waiting for cake. They slipped through the garden gate, the moon casting silver shadows on the grass. Crickets sang a lazy lullaby while a distant air‑conditioner hum drifted like a low alarm. Molly’s mask glimmered under the streetlamp, reflecting the orange of a porch light. Bill checked his watch, noting the party’s fireworks were set for nine minutes after their arrival, a perfect distraction. He imagined the kids’ faces when the piñata burst, their squeals mixing with the sudden silence as adults scrambled for candy. The night smelled of lawns and a hint of vanilla from unattended cake, a sweet prize awaiting them. As they neared the shed, a stray cat rustled leaves, paused, stared, then padded away, to the heist.