Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5QVSD6FBSMZZBFY7PHXJ0

**Molly:** You sure this is the right house? **Bill:** Positive. Little Timmy's sixth birthday. Rumor says his parents went all out this year. **Molly:** So our grand heist is robbing a six-year-old? **Bill:** Think bigger. Kids these days get hoverboards, gold-plated Legos, designer diapers— **Molly:** Designer *what*? **Bill:** Rich people, Mol. They’ll diaper their kids in diamonds if they could. Point is, we grab the haul, fence it fast, and retire early. **Molly:** Assuming we don’t get taken down by a hyperactive kindergartener with a juice box. **Bill:** Relax. Kid parties are chaos—balloons, clowns, sugar-fueled meltdowns. No one’ll notice two more grown-ups in silly hats. **Molly:** You’re wearing a silly hat? **Bill:** It’s *disguise*. And *you’re* the clown. **Molly:** *Excuse me?* **Bill:** You got the face paint, the wig— **Molly:** This is my *actual hair*! **Bill:** Even better. Natural camouflage. **Molly:** If this goes wrong, I’m blaming you. And throwing you to the kids. **Bill:** Deal. But if we pull it off, we split the loot fifty-fifty. **Molly:** Sixty-forty. **Bill:** Fifty-five–forty-five. **Molly:** Done. Now let’s go steal some stuffed animals. **Bill:** And remember—act like you belong. **Molly:** Easy. I *always* belong at a piñata massacre.