Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5ZAB2SAS0285365FXTVGP

The warehouse was dim, lit only by a single flickering bulb that cast long shadows over Molly’s blueprints. She tapped the paper with a chewed pencil, her brow furrowed. Bill leaned over her shoulder, his breath reeking of stale coffee and regret. “We hit the party during the clown’s balloon animals,” Molly muttered. “Kids’ll be distracted, parents drunk on punch.” Bill scratched his stubble. “What if someone catches us?” Molly rolled her eyes. “We’re dressed as clowns, Bill. Nobody questions clowns.” A nearby rat scurried across the floor, as if mocking their plan. Bill adjusted his oversized rainbow wig, the synthetic fibers itching his scalp. Molly had already painted her face—wide grin, teardrop, the works. She looked unsettlingly cheerful. “You got the getaway bike?” she asked. Bill patted the rusty tricycle behind him. “Pink streamers included.” Molly sighed. “Perfect.” Outside, the distant sound of children’s laughter drifted in. Bill wiped his palms on his polka-dotted pants. Molly stuffed a sack with fake flowers—camouflage for the loot. “Last question,” Bill said. “What if the clown’s better than us?” Molly grinned. “Then we steal his nose too.”