Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY81EX785CFBGRNJD1PF2X4

The laundromat hummed a monotonous tune, a soundtrack to Molly’s frantic gesturing with a crumpled napkin. Bill, perched on a folding chair, meticulously oiled a miniature grappling hook. The scent of damp cotton and cheap detergent hung heavy in the air. “So, just to recap,” Molly said, stabbing the napkin with a pink nail, “we're robbing a children's birthday party.” Bill didn’t look up. “‘Acquiring’ is a more appropriate term, Molly. We’re acquiring gifts.” “Acquiring gifts from six-year-olds,” she repeated, letting the words drip with incredulity. “Bill, I envisioned us hitting a jewelry store, maybe a small bank. Not...’Happy 6th Birthday, Penelope!’” “Penelope’s dad owns three shipping yards,” Bill mumbled, still focused on the grappling hook. “Shipping yards that, I might add, are deeply underinsured.” “That’s irrelevant! We’re dressing up as clowns to steal Lego and My Little Ponies. My reputation will be in tatters!” “Relax, Molly. Nobody suspects a clown.” Bill finally looked up, a smear of oil on his cheek. “Especially a clown with a slightly unsettling grin and a penchant for escaping from oversized shoes.” Molly glared. “My grin is charming! And the shoes are regulation. Besides, how do you even *know* what Penelope wants? We can’t just walk in and demand all the princess-themed paraphernalia. There'll be tears!” “We have intel, Molly! Ingrid at the bakery overheard Penelope’s mother bragging about a diamond-encrusted tiara.” “A diamond-encrusted tiara! For a six-year-old?” Molly’s eyes widened. “Okay, now you have my attention. But the rest of the presents? We can’t just claim tiaras.” “We'll work with the theme. Pony-based items, Lego sets geared towards imaginative play, anything with glitter. The more offensively cute, the better. It throws people off.” Bill tested the grappling hook, sending a tiny hook spinning through the air and sticking briefly to a pile of freshly folded towels. “Right. Offensively cute. And the distraction? You’re still insisting on the pigeon release?” “Essential,” Bill stated firmly. “A sudden flurry of pigeons will provide maximum chaos. Everyone will be looking up, and we'll be in and out with the loot before anyone can say ‘pin the tail on the donkey’.” “Pigeons. Seriously? You couldn’t just hire a juggler or something?” "Jugglers are predictable. Pigeons are an act of God. Pure, feathered anarchy." Bill returned to his oiling. "Plus, I got a good deal on them. Old Mrs. Higgins down the street was overrun. Said they kept stealing her dentures.” Molly groaned. “Of course she did. Fine, pigeons. Just… please tell me you’ve got the clown makeup allergy covered.” "Naturally. Contact lenses. And a strategically placed antihistamine." Bill winked. “Now, about these oversized shoes…”