Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8XT1HN79Z8DFRAC783TTZ

Molly leaned over the greasy diner table, her eyes gleaming like a fox eyeing a henhouse. "Bill, listen up. The Johnson kid's turning eight tomorrow—whole backyard full of presents. Toys, gadgets, cash-stuffed cards. We're talking a goldmine in piñata wrapping." Bill slurped his coffee, eyebrows shooting up. "A kids' party? Molly, that's low even for us. What, we gonna crash in clown suits? Honk our noses while scooping up Barbie dolls?" She grinned, slapping the table. "Exactly! Disguises are key. You go as the magician—top hat, fake rabbit. I'll be the face painter, turning snot-nosed brats into superheroes while you palm the gift pile. In and out before the cake's cut." He chuckled, shaking his head. "And the parents? Those soccer moms'll tackle us faster than a linebacker. Plus, what if the piñata bursts early? Candy avalanche—kids'll swarm like locusts." "Distraction's our friend," Molly whispered, leaning closer. "I'll spike the punch with sleepy-time herbs. Nothing lethal, just enough for a group nap. We load the van with loot, vanish like smoke. Think of it, Bill—fencing teddy bears for top dollar. We're not stealing from kids; we're liberating toys from over-sugared tyrants!" Bill paused, then smirked. "Alright, partner. But if I end up juggling escaped balloons while you flirt with the birthday dad, you're buying the getaway beers." "Deal," she said, clinking her mug to his. "Tomorrow, we make childhood cry—hilariously."