Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8147C85SJFEVD46RG0BCQ

Molly hunched over the cluttered kitchen table in their dingy apartment, blueprints of the suburban backyard sprawled out like a treasure map for toddlers. Pinwheels and balloon sketches dotted the edges, marking the chaos of little Timmy's fifth birthday bash. Bill paced behind her, twirling a fake mustache he'd insisted on for "disguise purposes." "Look at this haul," Molly whispered, eyes gleaming. "Piles of shiny toys, unwrapped and waiting. We crash the gate as party clowns, snag the gift table during piñata time, and vanish in the bounce house smoke." Bill snorted, adjusting his oversized bowtie. "Clowns? With my allergies? One balloon pops, and I'm sneezing glitter everywhere." "Exactly! Cover for the chaos," she shot back. "You juggle the decoys while I stuff the sack. In and out before cake time." He leaned in, peering at the map. "What if the kids swarm us? Tiny hands grabbing loot back?" Molly grinned wickedly. "We bribe 'em with candy. Every thief's secret weapon." Bill chuckled. "Genius. Operation Sugar Rush it is." As sirens wailed faintly outside—probably just a neighbor's TV—they high-fived, oblivious to the clown wig tangled in Bill's shoelace. The heist of the century? Or a recipe for slapstick disaster? Only the party would tell.