Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY80XSG8BCJZ0EQN70666KB

Molly hunched over the rickety kitchen table in their dingy apartment, blueprints of the community center spread out like a treasure map. Pinwheels and balloon sketches cluttered the edges, mocking their grand scheme. Bill paced, his oversized trench coat swishing like a cartoon villain's cape, a half-eaten donut dangling from his fingers. "Think about it, Bill," Molly said, jabbing a finger at the diagram. "A dozen five-year-olds, hyped on cake and piñata candy. Chaos! We'll slip in as clowns—red noses, squeaky shoes. Grab the gift pile while they're blindfolded and swinging." Bill snorted, crumbs flying. "Clowns? I'd trip over my own feet. And the parents? One whiff of suspicion, we're toast." She grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "That's the beauty. Kids love clowns. We'll juggle the presents right out the door. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy." He stopped pacing, rubbing his chin. "Fine, but if a kid tugs my wig, I'm aborting. No jail for balloon animals." Molly laughed, sketching fake mustaches on the clown faces. The plan was ridiculous, but in their line of work, absurdity was the best disguise. As sirens wailed distantly outside, they high-fived, sealing the fate of those innocent gifts. Little did the partygoers know, Santa's naughty list had just gained two more names.