Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5DFXJVGXS4017RBJH3AS4

The party decorations flapped in the breeze like neon crime scene tape, taunting Molly and Bill from across the street. Molly adjusted her oversized sunglasses—disguised as a concerned aunt—while Bill nervously fiddled with a balloon animal he’d swiped from a vendor. “You sure this is the right house?” Bill whispered, eyeing the bouncy castle with suspicion. Molly rolled her eyes. “Yes. Rich kids, dumb parents. Perfect score.” They’d cased the joint for weeks—well, Molly had. Bill mostly ate cake samples. The plan was simple: blend in, grab the loot, vanish before the piñata broke. Bill squinted at the invitation in his hand. “It says ‘No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problem.’ What if they mean it?” Molly sighed. “Just act natural.” Bill stuffed the balloon giraffe into his pocket. “What’s natural at a kid’s party?” “Chaos.” Molly smirked, adjusting her sunhat. “And we’re professionals.” Inside, a toddler screamed bloody murder over a stolen juice box. Perfect cover. They exchanged a nod and strolled toward the gift table, where shiny boxes promised untold riches—or at least a decent pawn shop haul. Bill reached for a present. “Wait,” Molly hissed. “That one’s got a bow.” Bill froze. “So?” “So bows mean explosives.” Bill paled. “Since when?” Molly grinned. “Since I said so.”