Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9YPW7ET229X6Y5WX0P4H8

The chipped Formica of the diner booth stuck to Molly’s elbows. She swirled the lukewarm coffee, the scent of stale grease doing nothing to improve her mood. Across from her, Bill was meticulously constructing a tower of sugar packets. “So, let me get this straight,” Molly said, her voice flat. “We’re robbing a *birthday party*?” Bill didn't look up, carefully balancing a fourth packet. “Technically, we’re *re-allocating* gifts. It's a victimless crime, really. The kids are already overstimulated with cake and face paint. They won’t even *miss* the loot.” “They will absolutely miss the loot, Bill. Especially little Timmy, whose entire world revolves around remote control dinosaurs.” “Timmy will get over it.” He added another packet, the tower wobbling precariously. "Besides, Mrs. Abernathy is loaded. This party is obscene. A bouncy castle *and* a magician? It's practically begging to be…lightened.” “Lightened? You're calling grand larceny 'lightening' things up?” Molly took a large gulp of coffee. “And what about security? Are there guard dogs? Laser grids? Tiny ninjas?” “Relax. It’s a seven-year-old’s party. The biggest security threat is probably a rogue toddler with a juice box.” Bill finally topped the tower, smoothing it with a dramatic flourish. It immediately collapsed. "Okay, slight setback. But the principle remains. Minimal risk, maximum reward.” “The ‘reward’ being a pile of plastic junk and half-eaten candy?” “Don’t knock the candy. It’s a bonus. But think bigger, Molly! There’s bound to be cash gifts. Gift cards. Maybe even a smartwatch. Little Timmy’s parents are doctors, remember?” “Doctors who probably have security systems. And who will absolutely notice if all the presents vanish.” “That’s where…Operation: Sugar Rush comes in.” Bill leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “We go in during the magician’s act. Everyone’s distracted by disappearing rabbits and forced smiles. You handle the gift bags, I’ll create a diversion.” “A diversion? What kind of diversion?” Molly raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking…I dress as a clown.” Molly choked on her coffee. “You? A clown? Bill, you have the comedic timing of a tax audit.” “That’s the beauty of it! Nobody expects a *bad* clown. It adds to the chaos! I’ll juggle, trip over things, maybe accidentally unleash a flock of pigeons…” “Pigeons?! Where are you getting pigeons?” “Details, details. The point is, while everyone’s laughing *at* me, you’re walking out with the goods. Clean and simple.” “That sounds significantly less 'clean and simple’ and significantly more ‘potential disaster’,” Molly said, rubbing her temples. “Trust me. This is foolproof. What could possibly go wrong?” Molly stared at him, a flicker of dread in her eyes. "Don't even *ask*."