Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPJYX6BSYB6JPXCM3KZMPG

The neon glow of the *"Happy 8th Birthday, Timmy!"* sign flickered through the miniblinds as Molly adjusted her oversized clown nose. "You realize we’re about to commit felony theft from a room full of sugar-crazed seven-year-olds, right?" Bill tugged at his itchy elf costume, the jingle bells on his shoes sounding like a tiny alarm system. "Relax. Kids are terrible witnesses. Half of ‘em still think the Tooth Fairy’s real. We’ll be in and out before the piñata’s empty." Molly eyed the gift table groaning under mountains of wrapping paper. "What’s our play? Distraction?" "Obviously." Bill pulled a kazoo from his pocket. "I hit ‘em with a rousing rendition of *Baby Shark*, you load up the sack. Classic misdirection." "Your kazoo skills are *not* a reliable distraction." "Fine. Plan B." He tossed her a whoopee cushion. "You plant this on the birthday boy’s chair. Chaos ensues. We vanish like glitter in a vacuum." Molly sighed. "We’re the worst criminals ever." Bill grinned. "Nah. We’re the *best* at being the worst." He cracked the door. The shriek of twenty children mid-"Musical Chairs" spilled out. "Showtime, partner. Try not to traumatize ‘em *too* much."