Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFK1SKR3ZQXJFKWP8N2X7A

Molly leaned over the greasy table, her red hair escaping from a tangled bun. Bill, a portly ex‑magician with a perpetual grin, tapped a flyer that advertised a five‑year‑old's birthday bonanza. The flyer showed a cartoon clown, a rainbow‑striped piñata, and a sea of brightly wrapped presents. Molly's eyes glittered like sugar‑coated candy, and she whispered, "This is the easiest target we have ever seen." She unfurled a hand‑drawn map of the house, indicating the back entrance, the kitchen, and the treasuretrove of gifts hidden behind a bouncy castle. Bill scratched his chin, his mind already rehearsing the misdirection that would keep the adults busy. Bill said, "We can masquerade as the clown and the magician, slip in while the kids are busy with the cake." The plan was absurd enough to work, because the party planner had hired a real clown who was notoriously late. Molly laughed, "Perfect, we will claim the role of the entertainers, then when the presents appear, we will sweep them into our bags while the parents applaud." Bill pulled out a battered notebook, scribbling a list of necessary props: a rubber chicken, a deck of cards, and a fake mustache. Bill said, "I'll handle the card tricks, you handle the distraction, and we meet at the van once the last balloon pops." Molly grinned, imagining the chaos of a dozen kids screaming for ice cream while she slipped a glittering gift bag into her pocket. Molly whispered, "We must be careful, the dog next door has a bark louder than a fire alarm, and the neighbor's grandma thinks she's a secret agent." Bill nodded, his eyebrows knitting like two fuzzy caterpillars, and he pulled out a small, glowing remote that could inflate the bouncy castle on command. They rehearsed their roles with gusto, swapping jokes about stolen candy and the inevitable sugar crash that would follow. Bill said, "When the cake is cut, the adults will rush for photos, leaving the presents unguarded like a candy store on Halloween." Molly said, "I'll swing the piñata like a pendulum, and while the kids scramble for sweets, we swipe the loot." The night of the party, a rainbow banner flapped above the garden, and a vintage VW bus idled near the curb, its roof painted like a giant birthday cake for extra flair. "Molly: After the cake, the kids will rush for the piñata, giving us a five‑minute window to snatch the gift pile." "Bill: I'll shout 'Surprise!' to distract the parents while you grab the biggest boxes." "Molly: If anyone asks, we're the new entertainers hired for the next act." "Bill: The van is parked behind the hedges; once we load the loot, we slip away before the birthday song ends." "Molly: Remember, the party ends with a group photo; we must be gone before the flash goes off." "Bill: I'll pretend to be a clown, juggling flaming torches while you fill the bags; the crowd will love it." "Molly: Quick, the clock strikes eight!"