Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9P31JPZCJ8YN7VVRSBMQB

The chipped Formica of the diner booth felt sticky under Molly’s elbows. She was meticulously dismantling a sugar packet, arranging the tiny granules into a miniature, painfully accurate replica of the target house – a Victorian monstrosity painted a disconcerting shade of lavender. Bill, across from her, was attacking a plate of pancakes with the single-minded ferocity of a badger. “You’re still arranging sugar, huh?” Bill mumbled around a mouthful of syrup-soaked flapjack. “Thought you’d have moved onto blueprints made of ketchup packets by now.” Molly didn’t look up. “Precision, Bill. It’s all about precision. Notice the asymmetrical placement of the gnomes? Crucial. They’re guarding the flanking windows.” “Gnomes? Really?” Bill finally swallowed, wiping syrup from his beard with the back of his hand. “We’re factoring in garden gnomes into a heist? This is getting ridiculous, even for us.” “Don’t underestimate the observational skills of a five-year-old, Bill. They *notice* things. They will remember the gnomes being slightly askew. It’s unsettling. We need to account for that.” She carefully nudged a sugar crystal into place. Bill sighed, dramatically. “Right. Unsettling gnomes. Of course.” He gestured vaguely with his fork. "So, the backup plan if little Timmy decides to become a junior neighborhood watch?" “Distraction. I’ve perfected a balloon animal giraffe that, when popped, emits a surprisingly convincing scream. It’s… unsettling.” Molly said, a touch defensively. “A screaming giraffe. You’re a genius, you know that? A terrifying, sugar-obsessed, giraffe-wielding genius.” Bill chuckled. “But seriously, what about the parents? Usually a few of them hovering, judging everyone’s parenting.” “They’ll be in the kitchen, gossiping about Brenda’s questionable choice of party favors” Molly replied, returning her attention to the sugar architecture. “Brenda went with personalized bubble wands. Personalized! It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Plus, my intel says Brenda’s husband makes a mean punch. They’ll be too occupied to notice a slight… lightening of the gift pile.” “‘Slight lightening’?” Bill raised an eyebrow. “We’re aiming for total present extraction, Molly. Not a polite thinning of the herd.” “Semantics, Bill, semantics. Think of the joy we'll bring to less fortunate children! It's… philanthropic grand larceny.” “Philanthropic grand larceny requiring a screaming giraffe and strategically displaced garden ornaments," Bill stated, shaking his head. "I’m starting to think the lavender house was a mistake.” Molly finally looked up, a glint in her eye. “Lavender is a surprisingly effective camouflage, Bill. It’s… unexpected. And trust me, this party is a goldmine. Apparently, little Timmy has a very generous aunt Mildred. Rumor has it, she gifted him a remote-controlled dinosaur. *A remote-controlled dinosaur*.” “Dinosaur, huh?” Bill’s eyes lit up. "Okay, okay. Maybe unsettling gnomes and a screaming giraffe are worth it. Let's do this."