Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFJWEDXDZ9WHPQ2JDZMR8S

Molly leaned against the wall, her eyes wide with excitement. "Bill, you won't believe the score tonight. A whole community center, packed with kids, and the presents? They're just sitting there, under that tree, like... like a giant, glittery target." Bill adjusted his gloves, his expression skeptical. "A children's party? Molly, that's... that's not a heist, that's a... a very expensive babysitting gig." "Exactly!" Molly beamed. "Think about it. The parents are all distracted, laughing, eating cake. The kids are... well, kids. They'll be too busy screaming about the clown or the piñata to notice us. And the presents? They're just boxes. Easy to carry. We grab 'em, we go." Bill rubbed his temples. "The presents are under a tree guarded by... what? A bunch of three-year-olds? And the parents? They're armed with cameras and... what is that? A giant inflatable dinosaur?" Molly ignored him, already picturing the haul. "We climb the ladder. Distract the kids with a balloon animal. Bill, you're the distraction. You wave that thing around, make silly noises. I slip in, grab the presents, we're out before anyone realizes their kid's new action figure is missing." Bill sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. "And how do we get the ladder? The community center has a security guard. A real, live human being who might, you know, notice two adults trying to hoist a ladder through the back door while a clown is juggling rubber chickens." Molly grinned, undeterred. "We bribe the clown. He loves tips. Fifty bucks, he looks the other way. Easy." Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bribing a professional entertainer with fifty bucks? That's like trying to buy a yacht with a Monopoly bill. And the guard? He's probably retired military. He'll spot us from a mile away." Molly's grin widened. "Then we make him laugh. Bill, you tell him the world's funniest joke. You know, the one about the elephant and the refrigerator?" Bill groaned. "That joke is older than dirt, Molly. And it's not funny. It's just... confusing." Molly grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the back door. "Come on! The thrill! The loot! The sheer audacity! It's perfect! Think of the story we'll tell!" Bill looked at her, then at the brightly lit community center door. He saw the laughter, the cake, the sheer, overwhelming normalcy of a children's party. He saw the presents, wrapped in shiny paper, under the tree. He saw Molly's eyes, sparkling with the promise of easy money and a ridiculous adventure. He sighed again, a long, defeated sound. "Okay," Bill muttered, his voice tight with reluctant agreement. "But if we get caught, you're telling the parents it was all a misunderstanding. You say, 'Sorry, Mrs. Jenkins, we thought the presents were... uh... misplaced.' Got it?" Molly clapped him on the shoulder, her grin infectious. "Deal! Now, where's that ladder? And the fifty bucks for the clown?"