Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFCSAPW7B4HGYGXAJH1WQH

The afternoon sun filtered through the balloons, casting a pastel glow over the backyard. Molly crouched behind the bouncy castle, her leather gloves gleaming in the light. Bill adjusted his fake mustache and peered over the hedge, his eyes twinkling with mischief. They were about to pull off the most absurd heist of their careers: infiltrating a children's birthday party and making off with every wrapped present. "We need a plan," Molly whispered, her voice barely audible over the squeals of kids. "The presents are stacked on a table near the piñata, but there are at least three parents and a clown patrolling," Bill replied, scanning the scene. "A clown? Perfect. I'll toss a rubber chicken, the clown will chase it, parents will help, we grab loot," Bill said with a grin. "That sounds like a cartoon," Molly replied, grinning. "But the music? DJ's playing 'Happy Birthday' on repeat. We'll move on the chorus." "I've got a portable speaker," Bill said, pulling a tiny device from his pocket. "I'll sync it to the DJ's playlist. When the beat drops, we make our move." "Alright, I'll slip under the table while you divert. I'll stuff presents into this duffel bag, disguised as a gift bag," Molly whispered. "Great. I'll guard the cake; if anyone cuts early, I'll claim I'm the official guard," Bill said, nodding. "No tears, just cheers, and maybe a thank-you note," Bill added with a chuckle. We promise. Molly smiled, eyes flicking to the table of gifts. They waited for the moment when the birthday boy blew out the candles, the crowd erupting in applause. At that instant, Bill hurled the rubber chicken. The clown, bewildered, chased it, stumbling over the balloons. The parents rushed forward, laughing and shouting. The DJ's speaker crackled, and the music shifted to an upbeat tune. Molly dove beneath the table, her hands moving quickly. She grabbed a stack of presents, shoving them into the bag. The bag bulged, but it blended in with the other gift bags scattered around. Bill hovered nearby, pretending to guard the cake while sneakily slipping a few extra boxes into his own coat. Within minutes, the presents were gone. The party continued, oblivious. Molly and Bill slipped away, their faces hidden behind oversized sunglasses and comedic grins. As they reached the exit, the clown finally caught the rubber chicken, looking bewildered. He glanced at the empty table, then at the two thieves, and shrugged. "That was too easy," Molly laughed, hoisting the heavy bag onto her shoulder. "Next time, we're robbing a mime." "Only if we can use an invisible rope," Bill replied, smirking. They vanished into the afternoon, leaving behind a party that would be remembered as the strangest birthday ever—though the gifts would never be missed. The streetlights flickered on as the sky turned amber, casting long shadows across the empty lawn. A distant ice cream truck jingled a cheerful tune, oblivious to the mischief that had just unfolded, and the night smelled of vanilla.