Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQCPQ9G2PE1E6KE8GZE9EH

The fluorescent lights of the diner buzzed like a swarm of angry bees, casting a sickly glow over the chipped Formica table where Molly and Bill sat. A half-eaten plate of fries congealed between them, forgotten in favor of the blueprint spread across the table. Molly tapped a manicured nail against the paper, her lips pursed in concentration. "You’re telling me we’re hitting a *kids’ party*?" Bill said, scratching his stubble. "I’ve robbed banks, I’ve lifted jewels, but this feels… wrong." Molly rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You once stole a priest’s collection plate mid-sermon. This is practically charity work." "Yeah, but the priest *expected* it. These are *children*, Mol. They cry when you take their stuff." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Exactly. Who’s gonna suspect a couple of thieves at a six-year-old’s birthday bash? The cops? They’ll be too busy laughing at the idea to actually show up." Bill groaned, rubbing his temples. "I can already see the headlines: *‘Notorious Thieves Nabbed After Heist Gone Wrong—Culprits Found Sobbing in Ball Pit.’*" Molly snatched a fry and pointed it at him. "Focus. The target is the *presents*. Not the kids. We grab the loot, we bounce, no one gets hurt." "Except the birthday girl. She’s gonna be *devastated*." "She’ll get over it. Kids are resilient. Besides, her parents will just buy her new stuff. It’s not like we’re taking her *pony*." Bill sighed, slumping back in the booth. "Fine. But if I get glitter on me, I’m holding you personally responsible." Molly grinned, snapping the blueprint shut. "Deal. Now, here’s the plan—" "Wait, wait, wait." Bill held up a hand. "We *have* a plan?" "Of course we have a plan. We’re professionals." "Since when?" "Since *always*." She cleared her throat. "Step one: We show up early, scope the place. Step two: We distract the parents with free cake samples—" "Free cake samples?" "Yeah, I swiped a tray from the bakery down the street. Step three: While they’re busy stuffing their faces, we load the presents into the van. Step four: We’re out before the piñata even gets cracked." Bill stared at her. "That’s it? That’s the whole plan?" Molly shrugged. "Sometimes the simplest plans are the best." "Or the dumbest." "Look, if you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears." Bill opened his mouth, then closed it. "Nope. No better ideas." "Great. Then it’s settled." Molly slid out of the booth, tossing a twenty onto the table. "We hit the party at three. Dress casual." Bill groaned. "I can’t believe I’m doing this." Molly patted his shoulder. "That’s the spirit. And hey—if we pull this off, we’ll be legends. The Bonnie and Clyde of birthday heists." Bill muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "More like the Abbott and Costello of birthday heists." Molly ignored him, already striding toward the door. "Come on, Bill. We’ve got a party to crash."