Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY92PJGWKV1K8WMY1RC9AWE

The neon glow of a flickering "Happy Birthday!" balloon cast long shadows across the table as Molly swirled her coffee, her fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against the chipped ceramic. "Alright, Bill," she said, leaning in like she was sharing a state secret with the waiter, "we’re talking about a *children’s party*. Not some high-stakes vault. Just a bunch of kids, balloons, and enough candy to make a diabetic have a heart attack." Bill wiped his mouth with a napkin, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. "And yet, you’re the one who keeps saying we should do it. What’s the play?" "Simple. We go in, we grab the presents—*all* of them—and we’re out before the parents even realize their kids have been replaced with tiny, confused ninjas." Bill chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re insane. What if the kid’s mom recognizes you from that time you tried to sell her a ‘limited edition’ snow globe that was just a rock?" Molly rolled her eyes. "First of all, I was *very* convincing. Second, we’re not breaking in. We’re *entering as guests*." Bill froze, his coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim. "You’re joking. You want to *socialize* with children?" "Bill, I’ve been socializing with children since I was five. I was the ringleader of the ‘Sock Thief Gang.’ We’d steal socks from the laundry line and trade them for candy. The kids *loved* me." He groaned, rubbing his temples. "And now you want to do this *on a larger scale*." Molly grinned. "Exactly. We’ll bring gifts. We’ll be *generous*. And when the parents aren’t looking, we’ll just… *borrow* the rest." Bill sighed, defeated. "You’re going to get us arrested." Molly leaned back, smug. "Nah. We’ll just blame it on the birthday boy’s *imaginary friend*."