Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7XTNDK6T093HNX2WX8678

The neon glow of the party hall pulsed like a heartbeat, casting jagged shadows across the walls where Molly adjusted her gloves with practiced precision. The air smelled of cotton candy and regret, the latter lingering from last night’s failed attempt at the toy store. Bill leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his breath fogging the cold steel of his pistol. "You sure this is the right place? Last time, we ended up in a bakery with a kid who still had his mittens on." Molly rolled her eyes, but her fingers twitched at her side. "This one’s got the *right* kind of chaos. The kind where presents are hidden in the ‘emergency stash’ behind the piñata. And the ‘emergency stash’ is *literally* a cardboard box behind the piñata." Bill cracked his knuckles. "So we’re just gonna walk in, scare the kids, and—" "—and steal the presents?" Molly finished, grinning. "Exactly. But we’re doing it *properly*. No alarms, no cops. Just pure, unadulterated heist theater." A gust of wind rattled the windows, and the partygoers—mostly parents and a few overly enthusiastic toddlers—turned to stare. Molly’s eyes flicked to the security camera mounted on the ceiling. "We’ve got about thirty seconds before they notice we’re not in our pajamas." Bill adjusted his mask, the brim hiding the sweat beading on his forehead. "You’re right. But what if—" "—someone sees us?" Molly cut in, already scanning the room. "Then we’re out of luck. Classic heist failure. ‘Oh no, the thieves were spotted by a security guard who was *way* too interested in the kid’s birthday cake.’" A child’s laughter echoed down the hall, and Bill’s jaw tightened. "You’re *such* a drama queen." Molly smirked, pulling out her lockpick. "And you’re *such* a nervous wreck. But hey, at least we’re not the ones who got caught last time." The door creaked open, and a parent’s voice boomed, "Everyone, settle down! The presents are coming out in just a minute!" Bill exhaled sharply. "Okay, new plan. We *run*." Molly’s eyes narrowed. "No. We *bluff*. We’re the ‘emergency party helpers.’" Bill groaned. "You’re *insane*." As they slipped into the shadows, Molly whispered, "And if all else fails, we can always just *steal the cake*." Bill shot her a look. "You’re *not* getting away with that." But Molly was already halfway down the hall, her fingers dancing over the lockpick again, because some heists were just too good to pass up.