Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7TW3TMZH1JWDYR047WZM0

The back room of 'Brenda’s Bait & Tackle’ smelled powerfully of fish and regret. Molly was meticulously layering a rainbow wig over her already vibrant purple hair. Bill, slumped on a fishing crate, was attempting to inflate a giant inflatable dinosaur. He was failing spectacularly. “Are you *sure* about this, Bill?” Molly asked, not looking up. "Stealing presents from children? It's a bit… low, even for us." Bill let out a frustrated puff of air that barely registered on the dinosaur. “Low? Molly, we’re talking about a potential haul of *hundreds* of toys! Think of the resale value! Plus, look at Mrs. Gable’s prize-winning poodle, Fluffy. Those tiny sweaters alone could fetch a fortune on Etsy." Molly finally turned, eyebrow raised. “You’re planning to steal dog sweaters, Bill? That's… incredibly specific.” “Hey, details matter! This isn’t some smash-and-grab operation. This is precision, this is artistry! This,” he gestured weakly at the limp dinosaur, “is the key.” “The inflatable dinosaur is the key to stealing presents from a five-year-old’s birthday party? Please elaborate.” “Distraction! I'll wander through, all bewildered and amazed by the dinosaur. Everyone will be looking at *me*! You swoop in, Santa-style, grab the presents, and we're out! Like ninjas… but with better fashion choices.” He pointed to Molly's increasingly flamboyant wig. Molly sighed. “Santa doesn’t usually wear a rainbow wig, Bill. He’s more of a red suit kind of guy.” “Details, Molly! Branding! We’re going for a modern Santa, the Santa of the 21st century. The, uh, ‘Festival Santa’.” "Festival Santa?" "It's got a ring to it, doesn't it? Anyway, I’ve already scoped out the location. Gable’s garden is a fortress of bouncy castles and sugar-fueled chaos. Perfect for a diversion.” “And children. Remember, Bill. Small, sticky children." “They’ll be too busy admiring the dinosaur! Besides, I’m bringing glitter. Everyone likes glitter." "Glitter is the herpes of the crafting world, Bill. It gets everywhere, and it refuses to go away." “Think big, Molly! Think shimmering, celebratory chaos! Now, can you give me a hand with this thing? It feels like I'm wrestling a very large, very stubborn balloon." Molly reluctantly approached the dinosaur, poking it with a finger. “Right. So, we’re going to dress up as a vaguely festive giant reptile and steal toys from children. Do you ever worry about karma, Bill?” Bill puffed out his cheeks. “Karma? Molly, we’re thieves! Karma left us at the door. Now, hold this leg, would you? And try to look vaguely… jolly.”