Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7QHW3HQARAV39JRX0BJWQ

The rain was doing that pathetic, insistent drumming against the window of the 'Rusty Mug' pub that always seemed to amplify the feeling of general dampness. Molly swirled the dregs of her lukewarm cider, her expression somewhere between focused and deeply regretful. Across from her, Bill was attempting to construct a miniature replica of a bouncy castle out of cocktail napkins and a stray packet of peanuts. “Are you *sure* about this, Bill?” Molly asked, her voice low. “A children’s party? Stealing presents? It feels… wrong.” Bill barely glanced up, meticulously folding a napkin into a surprisingly accurate miniature slide. “Wrong? Molly, darling, we’re petty thieves, not saints. Besides, think of the haul! It's a birthday for little Bartholomew Featherstonehaugh the Third! The boy’s father is a shipping magnate. We're talking limited-edition Lego, solid gold scooters, personalized pony rides… it’s a veritable treasure trove!” “Pony rides?” Molly squinted. “Seriously? How are we supposed to smuggle pony rides?” Bill finally looked up, his eyes gleaming with a disturbing level of enthusiasm. "Details, details. We'll figure it out. Maybe a very large, discreet box? We could disguise it as… a giant inflatable flamingo. People love flamingos.” “Bill,” Molly sighed, rubbing her temples. “We’re robbing a birthday party. I’m starting to think breaking into a bank would have been less stressful.” “Nonsense! Banks are full of cameras and laser grids. Little Timmy Featherstonehaugh’s birthday bash?” Bill spread his hands dramatically. “Guarded by a bored teenager in a clown suit and a bouncy castle.” “And about fifty sugar-fueled children,” Molly added grimly. “They’ll see everything! They'll *tell* everything! Think of the headlines: ‘Infamous Duo Nabbed by a Pack of Mini-Tyrants!’” “They're children, Molly, not detectives. They'll be distracted by cake. And glitter. Lots and lots of glitter.” Bill resumed his architectural project, now adding a tiny peanut-shell turret. "We go in, grab the presents, and vanish like the wind. Simple.” “Simple for *you* maybe,” Molly retorted, gesturing at the napkin bouncy castle. “You're going to be busy posing for architectural review, no doubt.” “Hey, it's for scale! Accurate planning is key. Did you get the grappling hook?” “Yes, the grappling hook. And disguises. I got you a particularly unfortunate Donald Duck outfit.” Bill gasped. “A Donald Duck outfit? Molly! I have an image to maintain! Couldn’t we have gone with, I don't know, a pirate? Everyone loves pirates!” “Pirates don’t blend in at children’s parties, Bill. Donald Duck does. Trust me. It's brilliantly pathetic. People won't suspect a thing.” Molly took another swallow of her cider. “Besides, it’ll be hilarious.” Bill shuddered. "Fine. But if I get chased by a herd of toddlers demanding I quack, I'm blaming you." “Just try not to attract attention, Bill,” Molly warned. “And absolutely *no* napkin engineering on the premises.”