Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPXHB8AHBVER0NDKBRTAZE

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. "Positive. The kid’s parents are loaded. Presents will be top-tier. Maybe even a drone." Molly snorted. "A drone? At a five-year-old’s birthday? What’s next, a timeshare?" "Hey, rich people are weird. Last year, I hit a bar mitzvah with a solid gold yarmulke. Solid gold, Molly." "Focus. We need a plan. How do we get in without looking suspicious?" Bill tapped his chin. "Easy. We’re the clowns." Molly blinked. "We’re what?" "The clowns. The original ones canceled. I heard the mom on the phone. She’s desperate." Molly groaned. "Bill, we can’t clown. We’re terrible at clowning." "Nonsense. We’ve got the outfits. I’ve got a nose honker." Molly crossed her arms. "A what?" Bill pulled a red rubber bulb from his pocket and squeezed it. A loud, obnoxious honk filled the air. Molly winced. "That’s not a nose, that’s a foghorn." "Details. We’ll wing it. Balloons, silly walks, the usual." Molly sighed. "Fine. But if I have to juggle, I’m quitting." Bill clapped her on the back. "You’ll be great. Just remember—big smiles, no murder." Molly adjusted her oversized shoes. "No promises." They approached the house, where a frazzled woman in a floral dress waved them inside. "Oh, thank goodness you’re here! The kids are already losing it." Bill bowed dramatically. "Fear not, madam. We are the Clowns of Chaos." The woman blinked. "That’s… not the name on the contract." Molly elbowed Bill. "He’s poetic. Let’s go." Inside, a dozen children screamed and threw confetti. Molly’s stomach twisted. "This is a war zone." Bill grinned. "Perfect. Distraction is key. I’ll do the balloon animals. You… uh… do the…" Molly glared. "The what?" "Uh… the… honking?" Molly grabbed the foghorn and blasted it. The kids shrieked with delight. "Fine. But if any of them cry, I’m blaming you." Bill saluted and began twisting balloons into lopsided giraffes. Molly wandered the room, honking occasionally, her eyes scanning the gift table. "Jackpot. There’s a Lego set the size of a small car." Bill joined her, whispering. "And look—over there. A tablet. Unlocked." Molly’s eyes gleamed. "We’re stealing a tablet at a kid’s party. We’re monsters." Bill shrugged. "Monsters with a plan. Now, how do we get the goods without getting caught?" Molly honked the foghorn again, then pointed. "See that kid in the dinosaur costume? He’s not even looking. I’ll swap the presents with the empty boxes we brought." Bill nodded. "And I’ll ‘accidentally’ knock over the cake. Chaos covers everything." Molly grinned. "You’re a genius." Bill winked. "I know. Now let’s get rich." They high-fived as the party descended into glorious, honking madness.