Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQE2ZH5TEB3P3180DYKFNB

Molly adjusted the glittery unicorn horn strapped to her forehead and squinted at the inflatable bounce castle. "You’re sure this is the right place? Because I feel like we’re about to commit a crime against joy itself." Bill, already halfway into a rainbow-striped onesie, zipped up the last few inches with a grimace. "Relax. It’s a *strategic* crime. Kids don’t need twenty identical Paw Patrol action figures. They don’t even *play* with them—they just hoard them like tiny, sticky dragons." Molly plucked a juice box from a nearby table and stabbed the straw through the foil. "I dunno, Bill. Stealing from a bunch of six-year-olds feels like crossing a line. Even for us." "Oh, please. Those kids will forget about these presents by tomorrow. Meanwhile, we’ll be sipping martinis on a beach somewhere, laughing about the time we robbed a room full of future sociopaths." He adjusted his oversized foam "Number One" badge. "Besides, we’re not *stealing*. We’re *redistributing wealth*." Molly took a long sip. "By stuffing it into our getaway van?" "Exactly. Now, you take the left side—grab the big gifts first. I’ll handle the piñata. And whatever you do, *do not* make eye contact with the clown." Molly groaned. "There’s a clown?" Bill grinned. "There’s always a clown."