Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFXZB5E8RZSNKS3Y013EXY

Molly squinted at the brightly coloreddecorations. "Look at that, Bill. A whole tree full of presents. Like a giant, edible-looking target." Bill adjusted his glasses, peering through his binoculars. "Molly, we've discussed this. Stealing from a children's party is... ethically questionable. And logistically insane. Those kids are like human tripwires." "Logistically insane?" Molly scoffed. "It's a cakewalk! They're all hopped up on sugar and chaos. Who's gonna notice a couple of slightly taller, slightly more suspicious-looking folks in the corner? We just need a ladder." "A ladder?" Bill groaned. "Molly, the last time we used a ladder at a kids' party, we ended up with a piñata full of confetti down our pants. And the parents thought we were part of the entertainment." "Different ladder," Molly insisted, pointing. "That one by the cake table. It's practically begging to be used. And look, no one's guarding it. Just a sleepy clown in a tiny car." Bill sighed, lowering the binoculars. "The clown. Yes. That's the problem. That clown is a former professional thief. He's been casing this party since the cake was cut. He knows every blind spot, every hiding place. He's probably got a miniature grappling hook hidden in his oversized shoe." Molly rolled her eyes. "Bill, he's a clown. He probably just has a tiny rubber chicken. Or maybe a whoopee cushion. That's not a threat." "Watch him," Bill warned, his voice low. "He's just finished adjusting the piñata. He's looking... calculating. That's not the look of a man who finds whoopee cushions amusing." Molly shrugged. "Okay, okay. Plan B. We sneak in when the parents are all outside smoking. They'll be distracted. We grab the presents, we're out before the first 'thank you' is even said." Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. "Molly, the parents are outside because they're trying to get the kids to stop bouncing on the bouncy castle. They're not going to notice us. They'll be too busy shouting 'Sit down!' and 'Don't eat the grass!'" Molly grinned, already imagining the loot. "Exactly. They won't see a thing. We'll be in, we'll be out, we'll be rich. And the kids? They'll just think the presents disappeared because Santa got lost. Classic misdirection." Bill stared at her, a slow, horrified smile spreading across his face. "Santa got lost... Molly. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. And you're suggesting we use it as a cover story? That's... that's brilliant. In the worst possible way." He shook his head, a chuckle escaping. "Alright. Plan C. We dress up as the parents. We blend in. We steal the presents while they're all busy arguing about whose turn it is on the slide." Molly clapped her hands together. "Perfect! And if anyone asks, we're just the Smiths from down the street. We brought extra cupcakes." She winked. "They'll never suspect a thing."