Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5RXPNZ4D0JW84K0BMSAFG

Molly adjusted her fake mustache in the rearview mirror, frowning. “This itches like a bad decision.” Bill leaned over from the driver’s seat, squinting at the suburban house across the street. Balloons bobbed cheerfully on the mailbox, and the faint sound of children’s laughter drifted through the open windows. “Yep. Target’s locked and loaded. Birthday party for a six-year-old named Timmy. Presents are ripe for the taking.” Molly sighed. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this. Stealing from a kid’s party? We’ve hit museums, banks, even a zoo once—” “—And that monkey still has my wallet,” Bill muttered. “—But this? This feels low.” Bill waved a hand. “Nah, it’s genius. No security, no cops, just a bunch of sugared-up kids and exhausted parents. Plus, kids get way too many presents these days. We’re doing society a favor.” Molly rolled her eyes. “That’s the worst justification I’ve ever heard.” “Second worst. Remember the ‘borrowing’ the Crown Jewels plan?” “Fair.” She tugged at her oversized clown costume. “So, what’s the play? Waltz in, grab the loot, and run before anyone notices the clown and the magician don’t actually work here?” Bill grinned. “Exactly. But with more pizzazz.” He pulled out a smoke bomb from his pocket. “Distraction first. Then, while they’re herding kids, we grab the gifts and exit stage left.” Molly eyed the smoke bomb. “You realize that’s just a repurposed stink bomb from the last job, right?” “Details.” A minivan pulled up, and a frazzled-looking mom herded a pack of kids toward the house. Molly took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s get this over with. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.” Bill adjusted his top hat. “Duly noted.” They strolled up the driveway, trying—and failing—to look inconspicuous. A dad in a “#1 Dad” apron frowned at them. “Uh, can I help you?” Bill flashed a grin. “We’re the entertainment! Clumsy Clown and Magic Mike!” Molly elbowed him. “It’s *Mystical* Mike.” The dad blinked. “We didn’t hire entertainers.” Bill coughed. “Surprise party?” Before the dad could respond, Bill tossed the smoke bomb. It hit the ground with a *pop*, releasing a thick, greenish haze that smelled like rotten eggs. Kids screamed, parents coughed, and chaos erupted. Molly bolted for the gift table, shoving presents into a sack. Bill joined her, knocking over a tower of juice boxes in the process. “We’re gonna be rich!” he crowed. “Rich in *Lego sets*,” Molly shot back. A tiny voice piped up behind them. “Are you stealing my presents?” They turned. A small boy in a dinosaur costume stared at them, lower lip trembling. Molly froze. “Uh. No?” Bill nodded vigorously. “We’re, uh, *relocating* them. For safekeeping.” The kid’s eyes welled up. “But those are *mine*.” Molly’s shoulders slumped. She dropped the sack. “We can’t do this.” Bill groaned. “Oh, come on! We’ve robbed tougher marks than a six-year-old!” “Yeah, but none of them looked at us like *that*.” The kid sniffled. “Are you bad guys?” Molly sighed. “Not today, kid. Not today.” She handed him a present. “Happy birthday.” Bill threw up his hands. “Unbelievable.” As they slunk back to the car, Molly smirked. “Next time, we stick to banks.” Bill grumbled, “Fine. But I’m keeping the clown nose.”