Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8D28966X41Z973GXE2KVK

Molly hunched over the cluttered kitchen table, blueprints of the community center spread out like a pirate's treasure map. Bill paced nearby, twirling a toy sheriff's badge he'd swiped from a dollar store. The plan was ridiculous, but that's what made it brilliant—or so they told themselves. "Listen, Bill," Molly said, tapping the diagram. "We hit the party at peak chaos: piñata time. Kids'll be blindfolded and whacking away. We slip in as clowns." Bill snorted, adjusting his fake mustache. "Clowns? Molly, I look like a deranged mime in this getup. What if some snot-nosed brat recognizes me from that mall fiasco?" "Relax," she replied, grinning. "We'll use the bounce house as cover. Crawl under, snag the present pile from the back room. Easy peasy." He stopped pacing, eyes widening. "And the escape? Balloons? We float out like the Goodyear blimp?" Molly laughed. "No, genius. We load the van disguised as the ice cream truck. Honk twice, kids swarm, we peel out amid the tears." Bill rubbed his chin. "One hitch: what if the birthday kid's a tiny detective? Those rugrats are sharper than you think." She waved him off. "Then we bribe 'em with candy. It's a heist, not a horror show." As they high-fived, the room filled with gleeful scheming, oblivious to the pint-sized peril ahead.