Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5BB46QM2QS5G9DKCY4HWV

Molly peered through the binoculars at the bustling children’s party in the backyard. “You’re sure they don’t have a guard dog?” she muttered. Bill rolled his eyes, adjusting his fake mustache. “Relax, it’s a six-year-old’s birthday, not Fort Knox. Worst we got is a clown with balloon animals.” “Balloon animals are no joke,” Molly snapped. “One popped near me last year, and I still have nightmares.” Bill sighed. “Focus. We sneak in disguised as caterers, load the gifts into the cake van, and boom—retirement fund.” “What if the kids notice?” “Kids are easily distracted. Drop a piñata, and they’ll lose their minds.” Molly chewed her lip. “And the parents?” Bill grinned. “Spiked punch. Non-alcoholic, obviously. Just… sleepy.” “That’s evil.” “It’s efficient.” Bill tossed her a hairnet. “Now put this on. You’re ‘Susan from catering.’” Molly glared at the hairnet. “Susan wouldn’t be caught dead in this.” “Susan’s a professional,” Bill hissed. “And professionals don’t whine about heists involving goody bags.” Molly grumbled but slipped the hairnet on. “If we get caught, I’m blaming Susan.” Bill adjusted his nametag. “Fair. But if we pull this off, we’re buying a yacht.” “With what money?” He winked. “The kids’ college funds.”