Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9C7VV30MZ132AJKCB8G8R

**Title: *The Great Toy Heist*** The back door of the McGinty mansion creaked open with a sound like a sleepy toddler’s sneeze. Molly adjusted her scarf, ensuring it was just long enough to hide her face but not so long she’d trip over it. "Bill," she whispered, "we’re in. Now *move*." Bill, who had been crouched behind a bush like a very nervous squirrel, let out a sigh of relief. "I *knew* you’d get us in. You’re the sneaky one." Molly rolled her eyes. "I’m the one who doesn’t get caught. You’re the one who once tried to pick the lock with a butter knife." "Fair point," Bill muttered, already pulling out his phone. "First, we need to know what’s actually inside. No sense stealing a box of crayons if we’re going for the *real* treasure." Molly groaned. "You’re impossible. Just *steal*." "Fine, fine," Bill said, holding up his phone. "But if we’re going to be thieves, we should at least *plan* like thieves." Molly groaned again but followed him inside. The house smelled like sugar and regret. Kids’ laughter echoed from the living room, where a table was laden with presents wrapped in glitter and tape. "Okay," Bill said, squinting at a particularly shiny box. "This one’s got to be the *big* one. Probably the Lego set with the *actual* spaceship." Molly snatched it before Bill could even finish. "There. Now we’re doing this right." Bill sighed dramatically. "I *hate* you." Molly grinned. "And I *love* you. Now—*move*—before the parents notice we’re missing." They slipped into the kitchen, where a stack of presents was neatly arranged. Bill grabbed a bag, but Molly stopped him. "Wait. What if we *give* them back the *wrong* presents?" Bill blinked. "What?" "Like, swap the Lego for a *very* expensive-looking dollhouse. Make it look like we *did* steal it, but now they’re stuck with a *terrible* gift." Bill’s eyes lit up. "Genius. But how do we get out without getting caught?" Molly pulled out her phone. "I’ll text the parents we’re *still* there. They’ll think we’re just *playing*." Bill groaned. "You’re *insane*." Molly winked. "And you’re *useless*." They worked in silence for a few minutes, swapping presents like a game of musical chairs. Then, just as the last kid was about to open their gift, Bill froze. "Molly," he whispered, "what if we *leave* the *real* presents? Just the *cheap* ones?" Molly’s face fell. "Bill, that’s *brilliant*." Bill grinned. "I *know*." They spent the next hour turning the party into a full-blown heist—swapping gifts, leaving behind just the *worst* ones, and even rigging a fake "emergency" to make the parents think they were still inside. By the time the last kid wandered off, they were already out the door, bag full of stolen toys, and Bill still muttering about how Molly was the only thief he’d ever met who *actually* knew what she was doing. Molly just laughed. "Next time, we’re doing the *real* heist. The one where we steal the *actual* presents from the *real* Santa’s workshop." Bill groaned. "I *hate* you." Molly grinned. "And I *love* you." They high-fived as they vanished into the night, already plotting their next grand heist.