Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY804VBJGNBZY0N9AACJ0N3

The aroma of sugar and impending doom hung thick in Molly’s tiny apartment. Bill, a man whose enthusiasm for larceny was only rivaled by his love of novelty socks, was bouncing on the floral sofa. He was currently sporting ones with cartoon badgers playing croquet. “So, you’re thinking… a children’s party?” Bill asked, eyes wide. “Molly, are you sure this isn’t a *bit* low-rent for us?” Molly, meticulously applying a shade of purple lipstick she referred to as “Strategic Disguise,” didn't look up. “Low-rent keeps us under the radar, Bill. High-profile gallery heists require a certain… *flair*. This requires stealth and a strong tolerance for glitter.” “Glitter. Right. Because nothing says ‘professional criminal’ like having sparkly residue clinging to your eyebrows.” Bill dramatically brushed an invisible speck from his cheek. “Think about it. Do you seriously believe security at a five-year-old’s birthday party involves laser grids and infrared sensors?” Molly finally glanced at him, eyebrow arched. “We’re talking bouncy castles and a pinata shaped like a unicorn.” “A unicorn pinata, you say? Is it… sturdy?” Bill asked seriously. Molly sighed, fighting the urge to strangle him with a string of fairy lights. “Bill! Presents. We’re stealing presents. High-end, kid-friendly presents. Think robot dinosaurs, limited edition dolls, miniature ponies… Parents these days spend a fortune.” “Okay, okay, presents. Good point. What’s the theme? Pirate? Princess? Because I’ve got a surprisingly convincing pirate eye patch if we need it.” “It’s ‘Enchanted Forest,’” Molly stated, rolling her eyes. "Which means an awful lot of woodland creatures and probably an unnerving amount of tulle." “Tulle. My nemesis. It clings. It snags. It mocks me with its sheer existence.” Bill shuddered. “So, the plan? Do we go in as parents? I could do a convincing dad who’s slightly overwhelmed and desperately needs a coffee.” “Even you would be a bit *too* convincing, Bill. No. We’re going in as performers.” Molly finished her lipstick. “I've got a contact— a guy who runs a children’s entertainment company. He's getting us booked to do a ‘magical forest’ performance.” “You’re getting us booked… as entertainers? Molly, I can barely juggle three beanbags, let alone conjure a rabbit out of a hat!” “You don't have to conjure anything. You’re a ‘jester’. You wear a silly hat and tell bad jokes. I’ll be the ‘enchantress’. I’ll distract with sparkles and disappearances.” Molly grinned. "And when the parents are mesmerized by my illusions, you swoop in and liberate the loot." Bill considered this, stroking his chin. “And the worst part? They’ll probably *tip* us. A five-year-old handing over a crumpled dollar bill… it’s just… beautiful, isn't it?" “Absolutely beautiful,” Molly agreed, grabbing a sequined cape. “Now, find me a jester hat with extra bells. And for the love of all that is holy, please try not to trip over the unicorn pinata."