Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQ0KNQCS6H9X70BD7BATKA

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. Or a pony. You never know with these rich folks." Molly snorted. "A pony? You think they’re just gonna leave a pony under the tree?" "Stranger things have happened," Bill said, nudging her with his elbow. "Besides, we’re not here for the pony. We’re here for the *principle* of the thing. Stealing from the rich to give to… well, us." Molly rolled her eyes. "You’re such a romantic. Alright, what’s the plan? We can’t just waltz in there. There’s gonna be, like, a hundred kids and at least one adult who’s not completely distracted by cake." Bill rubbed his chin. "Easy. We pose as entertainers. You’re the magician, I’ll be the clown." Molly stared at him. "You’re the clown." "Exactly. I’ve got the face for it." "You’ve got the *face* for it," Molly muttered. "Fine. But if I have to pull a rabbit out of a hat, I’m quitting this life." Bill clapped his hands. "Deal. Now, listen—when the party’s in full swing, we’ll ‘accidentally’ knock over the gift table. Chaos ensues, we scoop up the loot, and we’re out before anyone notices." Molly raised an eyebrow. "And if someone *does* notice?" Bill grinned. "Then we blame the pony."