Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPDY1MZ8CFVY29N42S5J67

The clown car sputtered to a stop half a block from the birthday bash, its rainbow-striped bumper sagging like a deflated whoopee cushion. Molly adjusted the elastic on her oversized polka-dot bowtie and squinted through the windshield at the backyard chaos: a piñata shaped like a unicorn hemorrhaging candy, a bouncy castle listing like a drunk giraffe, and a mountain of presents stacked taller than the fence. “You sure about the glitter bomb?” Bill whispered, his voice muffled by the rubber nose he’d forgotten to remove. Molly flicked a sequin off her sleeve. “It’s not a bomb, it’s a distraction. Kids love glitter. Parents hate it. Physics does the rest.” Bill peered at the clipboard balanced on his lap, where a crayon-drawn map of the yard was annotated with stick-figure thieves and a big red X marking the gift pile. “What if the birthday kid cries?” “Then we’re the heroes who gave him a pony.” Molly patted the duffel bag between them, which jingled ominously. “Besides, we’re not stealing the presents. We’re relocating them to a more appreciative audience.” Bill sighed, his fake mustache drooping. “I still think we should’ve gone for the petting zoo heist. Less glitter, more goats.” Molly grinned, already popping the trunk. “Where’s your sense of whimsy, Bill? This is art.” She tossed him a handful of confetti. “Now move. The cake’s almost gone, and I want that Lego Death Star.”