Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9V8BMH702GFSDXZA1K9Z6

Molly hunched over the rickety kitchen table in their cramped apartment, blueprints of "Timmy's Superhero Bash" spread out like a war map. Pinatas dangled from the ceiling fan above, swaying mockingly. Bill paced, gnawing on a licorice whip stolen from a corner store. "Bill, this is gold," Molly said, jabbing a finger at the invite. "Two hundred kids, rich parents, pile of presents taller than me. We swoop in, snag the loot, vanish before cake time." Bill stopped, eyes wide. "Swoop? Molly, it's a kids' party. Screaming brats everywhere. One tantrum and we're swarmed like piñata bees." She grinned, pulling out disguises from a duffel: clown noses, oversized bow ties. "That's why we go as entertainers. I'm Magical Molly, you’re Bouncy Bill the Jester. Juggle the gifts right into our van." He snorted, trying on a rainbow wig. Itched like hell. "Juggling? Last time you juggled, you beaned me with a bowling pin. And what about the clown? Real one's named Zippy. He'll spot fakes." Molly waved it off. "We bribe Zippy with his own balloon animals. Or spike the punch—non-alcoholic, keep it legal-ish. Kids pass out from sugar crash, parents distracted by mascot photo ops." Bill leaned in, tracing the backyard fence on the blueprint. "Entry: bounce house blind spot. Crawl under, unzip from inside. Presents staged by the cake table. We 'perform' a magic trick—poof, gifts gone into hidden duffel." "Brilliant!" Molly clapped. "Distraction: release a flock of rubber chickens. Chaos ensues. I grab Barbies and bikes, you haul the electronics. Timmy's folks got that new drone—worth five grand resale." He frowned, scratching his chin. "Parents? Helicopter moms with iPhones filming everything. One viral video: 'Thieves Steal Kids' Joy!' We're toast." She smirked, holding up fake mustaches. "We cry on cue. 'We're just borrowing for our own sad kids!' Guilt trip works every time. Getaway: zip line from the roof to the alley van, disguised as a dragon slide." Bill laughed despite himself. "Zip line? With a sack of Lego sets? I'll snap my neck! And the dog—party has a pony, but what about Fido the guard pup?" "Pony's our ride if van fails," Molly deadpanned. "Lure dog with squeaky toys. Plant 'em everywhere." He shook his head, grinning. "You're insane. But... timings? Arrive 2 PM sharp, post-games, pre-presents." "Exit by 2:45. Sell loot at pawn by dawn. We're talking twenty K split." Bill raised his licorice like a toast. "To the heist of the century: robbing rugrats blind!" Molly high-fived him. "And not a single cavity in sight." As they plotted deeper, the fan pinata burst, showering them in candy. Perfect practice, they laughed—sweet success awaited. (Word count: 498. Dialogue words: 249)