Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPD9QGMC0VA9JHZGYYT3DB

Molly adjusted the oversized sunglasses perched on her nose and squinted at the brightly colored banner fluttering in the breeze. "You sure this is the right place, Bill? It looks like a rainbow exploded on a cupcake." Bill, balancing a stack of stolen party supplies in his arms, grinned. "Trust me, Molly. The kid’s parents are loaded. This isn’t just any birthday party—it’s a *fortune* party." Molly sighed, shifting the duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "We’re stealing from children, Bill. That’s a new low, even for us." "Technically, we’re stealing from their *parents*," Bill corrected, adjusting his fake mustache. "And hey, think of it as early Christmas. These kids will get *way* more presents than they need." Molly rolled her eyes. "You’re a terrible person." "Thank you," Bill said, bowing dramatically. "Now, the plan is simple. We crash the party, blend in, and when the cake’s cut, we make our move. The presents are all under the tree—easy pickings." Molly frowned. "What if someone recognizes us?" Bill waved a hand. "Pfft. We’re wearing disguises. You’re ‘Aunt Linda,’ and I’m ‘Uncle Dave.’ Who’s gonna question us?" Molly glanced down at her outfit—a frilly pink dress and a name tag that read *Linda* in bubbly letters. "I look ridiculous." "Exactly," Bill said. "No one suspects the ridiculous." A loud burst of laughter erupted from inside the house. Molly winced. "This is a terrible idea." "Too late now," Bill said, nudging her forward. "Come on, Aunt Linda. Let’s go steal some toys." They pushed through the front door, greeted by a wall of noise—squealing kids, blaring music, and the unmistakable scent of cotton candy. Molly’s stomach churned. "I think I’m gonna be sick." Bill clapped her on the back. "Deep breaths. Just act natural." "Natural?" Molly hissed. "I’m dressed like a human cupcake!" "Focus," Bill said, scanning the room. "The presents are over there. We just need a distraction." Molly spotted a group of kids huddled around a piñata. "What if we knock that over? That’ll buy us some time." Bill shook his head. "Too obvious. We need something subtle." Molly’s eyes lit up. "What if *you* trip over the dog?" Bill looked horrified. "What dog?" Molly pointed. A small, fluffy terrier trotted toward them, tail wagging. Bill paled. "No way. I’m not tripping over a dog." "Fine," Molly said, grabbing a nearby balloon. "I’ll pop this near the cake. Chaos ensues, we grab the loot, and we’re out." Bill hesitated. "That could work. But if you miss—" Molly popped the balloon. The sound echoed like a gunshot. Every head in the room turned. "Too late," Bill muttered, already shoving presents into the duffel bag. "Go, go, go!" Molly scrambled after him, dodging kids and parents. A little girl tugged on her dress. "Aunt Linda, why are you stealing my presents?" Molly froze. "Uh… because… I’m *bad*?" The girl gasped. "You’re a *villain*?" Bill yanked Molly away. "We’ll explain later! Run!" They burst out the front door, duffel bag bulging, and sprinted down the street. Behind them, the sound of tiny feet pounding after them. Molly panted. "We’re being chased by *children*." Bill groaned. "This is the worst heist ever." Molly grinned. "But we got the presents." Bill sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, we did."