Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY97AX1REW0C8T2J49PZQ63

The neon glow of the party hall pulsed like a heartbeat, casting jagged shadows across the walls where Molly adjusted her gloves—too tight, too loud, but she’d never admit that to Bill. He was already hunched over the doorknob, his breath fogging the air like a villain in a bad action movie. “You’re gonna get us both arrested,” Bill muttered, his voice dripping with faux concern. “That security camera’s got a damn face.” Molly smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Relax, partner. We’re not here to *see* the presents. We’re here to *steal* them.” She grabbed a nearby trash can, pried open the lid with a dramatic flourish. “See? No alarms. No guards. Just a bunch of kids who’ll be too busy screaming to notice us.” Bill groaned, but then his eyes lit up. “Wait—what if we just… *swap* them? Give them a fake present, take the real ones, and vanish before anyone notices?” Molly’s grin faltered. “You’re *terrible* at this.” “No, I’m *brilliant* at this!” Bill insisted, already pulling out a small, poorly wrapped box from his pocket. “This one’s got a ‘free toy’ sticker. Perfect.” Molly snatched it back. “You’re a disaster. We’re gonna get caught.” “Nah,” Bill said, adjusting his sunglasses. “We’re gonna get rich. And then we’ll buy a *real* house. With a *real* dog.” Molly rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Fine. But if we get caught, I’m hauling your ass to the nearest dumpster.” Bill grinned. “Deal. Now—*where* do we start?” Molly pointed to the back door, where a stack of boxes sat untouched. “There. The least likely spot.” Bill groaned. “You’re *such* a cop.” “Shut up and help,” Molly said, already pulling a lockpick from her pocket. “Or I’ll tell the cops you’re a *terrible* thief.”