Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9ZC22YN7K18ETCTEZ4H83

Molly hunched over a crumpled blueprint of the suburban backyard, her eyes gleaming under the flickering bulb of their cramped van hideout. Bill paced nearby, juggling a pair of oversized clown shoes they'd swiped from a costume shop. "Alright, Bill, listen up," Molly said, tapping the diagram. "The party's at noon. Kids everywhere, piñata swinging, cake flying. We pose as entertainers—me as the magic lady, you as the bumbling clown. Total distraction city." Bill chuckled, nearly dropping a shoe. "Bumbling? I can do bumbling, Mol. I'll trip over my own feet, spill the punch—chaos ensues. Then what? We snag the present table while the rugrats chase the balloon animals?" "Exactly," she grinned. "I've got smoke bombs in my wand. Poof—cloud of glitter. We load the gifts into the van disguised as our 'magic trunk.' Easy peasy. But watch the birthday kid; that little terror's got eyes like a hawk." Bill snorted. "Eyes like a hawk? More like a sugar-rushed gremlin. What if we trip the alarm? Or worse, get pied in the face?" Molly leaned back, smirking. "Then we improvise. Laugh it off, blame the clown. We're pros at this kiddie caper. Presents for the fences by sundown—dollhouses, bikes, the works. Cha-ching!" Bill high-fived her. "To the heist of the century: Operation Candy Grab!"