Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM60BFSYDYRS2TAQQ5KC5N5

The party decorations fluttered in the breeze like neon evidence of their impending crime. Molly adjusted her oversized sunglasses—disguise number three this week—while Bill fiddled with a walkie-talkie that had seen better decades. "Think they’ve got cake?" Bill whispered, eyeing the bouncy castle like it was a vault. Molly sighed. "Focus. Presents first, diabetes later." They crouched behind a hedge shaped like a unicorn, its glittery mane scratching Bill’s nose. Inside, children shrieked with joy, oblivious to the duo plotting their giftpocalypse. Molly unrolled a blueprint on the grass—drawn in crayon, stolen from a kindergartener earlier. "Guards?" Bill asked, squinting. "Two. One’s got a juice box, the other’s napping in the ball pit." Bill nodded solemnly. "Weapons?" Molly held up a confetti cannon. "Distraction." A sudden squeal from the party made them freeze. A toddler wobbled toward the hedge, clutching a half-eaten cupcake. Molly and Bill held their breath. The kid stared, then toddled away, leaving frosting smeared on the unicorn’s hoof. "Close call," Bill muttered. Molly checked her watch. "Go time. Remember—no witnesses, no mercy, and for heaven’s sake, don’t trip on the piñata." Bill saluted. "Happy heisting." They crept forward, the scent of sugar and poor life choices hanging heavy in the air.