Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFV8NWDDHZ1WYZRW8MN3BM

Molly leaned against the wall, her eyesfixed on the brightly colored balloons bobbing above the backyard party. Bill adjusted his gloves, his brow furrowed. "This is madness, Molly. Kids. Cake. Happy families. We're breaking into a kindergarten." Molly snorted, her voice low but sharp. "Exactly the point, Bill. Who's gonna notice a couple of adults in the bushes? Besides, the loot is... spectacular. Look at that pile. That giant teddy bear alone is worth a small car." Bill squinted at the presents. "Worth a small car? Molly, those are stuffed animals. And the parents are probably watching. And the kids... the kids are loud." Molly waved a dismissive hand. "Kids are background noise. We're professionals. Focus." She took a step forward, then froze. "Okay, okay. Plan B. We go in the back gate. It's supposed to be locked, but I heard the gardener left it slightly ajar yesterday. We slip in, grab the big stuff, and vanish before anyone realizes the cake's been moved." Bill rubbed his temples. "The gardener? Molly, we don't know if he left it ajar. And even if we do, what about the noise? What about the... the birthday boy? He's probably guarding that Lego castle like it's Fort Knox." Molly grinned, a dangerous glint in her eye. "That's the beauty of it. We distract him. You play the clown. You make him laugh. While he's giggling, I grab the presents. Simple." Bill sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. "Distract the birthday boy? With what? You trying to juggle? Because if you try to juggle those helium balloons, we'll be here all night." Molly's grin widened. "I was thinking more along the lines of... a magic trick. A disappearing act. For the presents." She winked. "Trust me." Bill stared at her, the absurdity of the plan hitting him fully. "A disappearing act? Molly, we're not magicians. We're thieves. And we're breaking into a children's party. This is the worst idea since... since that time we tried to steal the mayor's prize-winning goldfish." Molly's expression turned serious, almost fierce. "This is genius, Bill. Pure, unadulterated genius. The parents will be too busy congratulating themselves on a 'successful' party to notice a few presents are missing. They'll think the kids just... forgot them. Or the dog ate them. Perfect." Bill looked back at the presents, then at Molly's determined face. He let out a long, defeated breath. "Fine. Plan B. Distract the birthday boy with a magic trick. Grab the presents. Get out before the parents realize their kid's birthday is ruined because the presents vanished. And Molly?" Molly turned, her eyes sharp. "Yeah?" Bill held up a finger. "No juggling the balloons. I draw the line at that." Molly laughed, a low, confident sound. "Deal." She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and started walking towards the back gate, her plan already forming in her mind. Bill followed, his hand hovering near his pocket, ready for anything. The party's cheerful chaos was about to get a whole lot more interesting.