Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5T03EECYH6JN3RHT8RTQG

Molly adjusted her fake mustache in the rearview mirror while Bill fiddled with the oversized clown shoes in his lap. “You sure this is the right move?” Bill asked, squinting at the party invitations scattered on the dashboard. “Breaking into a six-year-old’s birthday feels… low.” Molly scoffed. “Low? Bill, it’s genius. Kids get the best loot these days—designer toys, gold-plated rattles, whatever. Plus, security’s a joke. One guy in a dinosaur costume and a piñata full of regrets.” Bill sighed. “What if we get caught? You ever tried outrunning cops in these shoes?” He wobbled one in the air. “Relax. We’ll blend in. You’re the clown, I’m the magician—” “You’re wearing a trench coat and a mustache.” “—*Disguised* as a magician. Look, all we do is grab the presents during the cake chaos, load ‘em into the balloon animal van, and boom. Retirement.” Bill hesitated. “What about the kids?” Molly rolled her eyes. “They’ll get over it. Childhood trauma builds character.” A beat. Then Bill shrugged. “Fine. But if I have to make one balloon poodle, I’m out.” Molly grinned. “Deal. Now let’s go rob some toddlers.”