Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQ1EXR99R93ARFQ08KNT8H

The neon glow of the *Dizzy Dinosaur Bounce House* flickered through the minivan’s windshield as Molly adjusted her oversized clown wig in the rearview mirror. Beside her, Bill fiddled with a walkie-talkie, his fake mustache already peeling at the edges. “Remind me again why we’re robbing a six-year-old’s birthday party?” Bill muttered, tugging at the itchy fabric of his rented elf costume. Molly shot him a look. “Because, genius, rich kids get *good* presents. We’re talking iPads, limited-edition sneakers, maybe even a Bitcoin wallet from some tech-bro dad trying to look cool.” Bill squinted at the chaos unfolding beyond the windshield—sugar-high children screaming, parents chugging wine from plastic cups, a harried magician dropping his rabbits. “Yeah, but have you *seen* these kids? They’re like feral raccoons. One wrong move and we’re getting tackled by a swarm of sticky-fingered maniacs.” Molly tossed him a bag of glitter bombs. “That’s what these are for. Distraction and misdirection. Classic heist tactics.” “Glitter bombs?” Bill held one up like it was a live grenade. “You want to *glitter-bomb* a bunch of kids?” “Relax, it’s non-toxic. Mostly.” She grinned. “Besides, have you ever tried to clean glitter out of carpet? Parents will be so busy vacuuming for the next decade, they won’t even notice the PlayStation’s missing.” Bill groaned. “I knew we should’ve stuck to banks.” “Banks have *security*. This place has a piñata and a guy in a mascot suit who looks like he’s one tequila shot away from quitting.” Molly checked her watch. “Alright, Phase One: you cause a diversion by ‘accidentally’ setting off the confetti cannon near the cake table. I’ll slip into the present pile, swap the good stuff with the decoy gifts we wrapped—” “Hold on.” Bill held up a finger. “We *wrapped* decoy presents?” Molly rolled her eyes. “Yes, Bill. Because nothing says ‘innocent birthday guest’ like showing up with a suspiciously unlabeled box. Ours say *‘To Timmy, Love Aunt Carol’*—generic, forgettable, and full of rocks.” Bill peered at the gift pile, where a towering box labeled *‘XBOX – DO NOT SHAKE’* glinted under the party lights. “What if the rocks tip someone off?” “Please. Half these parents are too drunk to notice if we replaced the presents with actual rocks.” Molly cracked her knuckles. “Now, you ready?” Bill took a deep breath, adjusted his elf hat, and muttered, “I went to college for this.” Molly clapped him on the back. “Cheer up. If we get caught, we’ll just say we’re the entertainment. ‘Surprise! It’s a *heist*-themed party!’” Bill opened the van door, then paused. “…That’s actually not a bad idea.” Molly smirked. “Told you. Now go make it rain.”