Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY80TECJVSANTTPCJR6EE7V

The aroma of melted crayons and disappointment hung heavy in Bill’s cluttered apartment. Molly, perched precariously on a stack of old National Geographics, was meticulously sketching a bouncy castle. "Right, so, inflatable perimeter secured," she announced, tapping the drawing with a bright pink highlighter. "Kids will be too busy bouncing to notice anything amiss." Bill, sprawled on a threadbare armchair, slowly peeled a grape off a plate. "A bouncy castle? Molly, really? We’re stealing Christmas presents, not organizing a petting zoo.” "Strategic distraction, Bill! Think! Squirrel! Shiny thing! Boing, boing, boing! Away they go, leaving unattended piles of delightful loot.” She gestured dramatically at the drawing. “It's innovative. It's efficient. It's… bouncy." Bill munched on the grape. “It’s utterly ridiculous. And attracting attention. Imagine the headlines, ‘Two masked bandits thwarted by a particularly enthusiastic six-year-old.’” “You worry too much. We’ll be in and out before anyone even realizes their little Timmy doesn't have a remote-controlled dinosaur. Speaking of which,” she zoomed in on a crudely drawn picture of a toy dinosaur. “Priorities. Remote-controlled dinosaurs. Lego castles. Anything featuring glitter. Those are the targets, Bill. High-value, easily transportable joy.” “And how do you propose we transport these… piles of joy?” Bill asked, gesturing around the apartment. “We’re not exactly smuggling them in shopping carts.” “We’re going with the stroller approach. Classic. Nobody suspects a woman pushing a stroller. Suddenly, the stroller’s full of Walkie Talkies and unicorn plushies. Genius, right?” Molly beamed. “A double stroller,” Bill corrected, taking another grape. “For the sheer volume of anticipated gifts. And you expect me to push it?” Molly wrinkled her nose. “Well, someone has to. You're the strong one. Unless you’d prefer I juggle those dinosaur figures while sprinting?” “I’m thinking about a decoy,” Bill mused, staring at the ceiling. “A slightly… unbalanced mime. Wandering around, creating confusion. No one looks twice at a mime.” “A mime? You’re serious?” Molly threw her hands up in exasperation. “Bill, the last thing we need is more weirdness. This is a children’s party, not a circus sideshow!” "It’s a tactical advantage!” Bill insisted. “He could be strategically tripping over things. Briefly distracting individual children. It's misdirection!" "Misdirection involving a silently judging man in striped clothing?" Molly asked, clearly unconvinced. "I’m sticking with the bouncy castle. It’s… wholesome. Minimizes suspicion. A touch of whimsy. Besides, I already ordered the face paint." Bill groaned. “Face paint? Now you’re just taunting me. What are we going to paint ourselves as? Friendly clowns?” “Possibly,” Molly said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Or maybe… exceedingly cheerful elves. Think about it, Bill. Elves. Presents. Children. It’s practically foolproof.”