Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPF0E0P5R1D8NFTCS1QKVK

The rain drummed against the roof of the stolen ice cream truck as Molly adjusted her oversized sunglasses and frowned at the blueprints spread across the dashboard. Bill, chewing on a stolen candy cane, leaned over her shoulder, his breath minty and slightly panicked. “You sure this is the right plan?” he asked, voice muffled by the candy. Molly tapped the blueprints. “Positive. The party’s in full swing, the parents are distracted, and the presents are piled high. It’s like Christmas came early for us.” Bill swallowed the candy cane. “But it’s a *children’s* party. What if they cry?” Molly smirked. “Then we’ll cry too. Emotional support thieves, that’s us.” Outside, the sound of laughter and a piñata being bashed echoed through the open window. Bill wiped his palms on his pants. “What if the clown sees us?” Molly grabbed a whoopee cushion from the glove compartment. “Then we’ll distract him with this. Trust me, no one can resist a whoopee cushion.” Bill sighed. “You’re insane.” Molly grinned. “And you love it.” They slipped out of the truck, the whoopee cushion tucked under Molly’s arm, ready to infiltrate the most chaotic heist of their careers.