Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7J19B1VTQ6C3C2NR6R51P

The neon glow of a neon sign flickered outside the diner, casting long shadows over the sticky table where Molly leaned back, twirling a fork between her fingers like it was a microphone. Bill slurped his third cup of coffee, steam curling around his nose like a suspicious cloud. "You ever think about how ridiculous it is that we’re planning to rob a *kids’ party*?" Molly asked, grinning. "I mean, we’re not exactly Robin Hood here. We’re just a couple of adults in masks, sneaking into a room full of tiny humans who’ll probably just hand us their candy and go, ‘Here, take it, you’re cool.’" Bill wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah, well, have you seen the security at these things? It’s like they hired a toddler to guard the presents. ‘No, Jimmy, you can’t open that box yet—wait, what’s that? Oh no.’" "Exactly!" Molly clapped her hands. "And the parents? They’re all drunk on punch and convinced their kid’s the next Einstein. Meanwhile, we’re the ones with the actual *skills* here. I’ve got a lockpick that can open a candy cane. Bill, you can hotwire a tricycle." Bill chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re insane. But fine, I’ll drive. Just promise me we don’t have to explain to the cops why we were dressed like clowns." Molly smirked. "Oh, we won’t. We’ll just tell them we were there to *distract* the kids from their presents. Classic misdirection." She leaned in. "So, what’s the play? Do we go in like a circus act, or do we just walk in and say, ‘Hey, kids, guess what? Santa’s early this year’?" Bill groaned. "You’re killing me."