Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7GX9G6WZG8DWFBPW4REHZ

Molly hunched over the rickety kitchen table in their cramped apartment, a crumpled invitation clutched in her fist. The glossy cardstock read "Superhero Bash for Timmy's 7th Birthday – Bring Your Inner Hero!" Bill paced behind her, munching on a stale donut, crumbs dusting his faded Hawaiian shirt like confetti from a failed parade. "Listen, Bill," Molly said, jabbing a finger at a hand-sketched map of the backyard venue. "We hit at peak chaos—two o'clock, when the piñata explodes and the kids go feral. We'll pose as caterers. Easy in, easy out with the haul." Bill paused mid-chew, his bushy eyebrows knitting together. "Caterers? Mol, I look like I cater to overdue library books, not cupcakes. What if they ask for references?" She rolled her eyes, sketching a quick route past the bounce house. "We'll say we're from 'Party Pirates LLC'—ironic, right? You handle the distraction: juggle some balloons or something. I'll slip into the gift room and stuff the presents into duffel bags disguised as party favors." He snorted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Juggling? Last time I juggled, it was your ex's bowling trophies, and we ended up with a black eye and a lawsuit. Besides, what about the clown? That red-nosed freak always smells trouble." Molly grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "The clown's our in. Bribe him with a twenty to 'accidentally' lock the side gate. Kids'll be too busy chasing balloon animals to notice us hauling off the loot—Xbox, bikes, that massive Lego castle. We're talking resale gold." Bill leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "Resale? Half of it's pink princess crap. Who buys that?" "Desperate aunts and eBay weirdos," she shot back, folding the map. "Trust me, by tonight, we'll be sipping piña coladas on that yacht we never bought. Just don't trip over any squeaky toys." He chuckled, grabbing his keys. "Fine, but if a kid calls me 'Uncle Buffoon,' I'm aborting the mission. Deal?" "Deal," Molly said, high-fiving him with a wink. As they headed out, the absurd thrill of it all bubbled up—stealing joy from tots, one wrapped box at a time. Little did they know, the real heist would involve face paint, a rogue piñata bat, and a chase through a sea of screaming superheroes. But that's a plot twist for another chapter. (Word count: 498. Dialogue words: 152, approximately 30%.)