Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA22T6TY5H3P1G18NMHHCY

**Title: *The Great Toy Heist*** The neon glow of the party’s disco ball flickered against Molly’s cheek as she adjusted her sunglasses—*just in case*—while Bill leaned against the fence, arms crossed, eyeing the crowd like a hungry lion. “You’re *sure* this is the right place?” Bill asked, voice dripping with skepticism. “Because if it’s not, we’re gonna have to start over, and I *hate* starting over.” Molly rolled her eyes, tossing a candy wrapper into the bushes. “It’s *obviously* the right place. Look—” She pointed at the glittering cake. “That’s a *cake*. And that’s a *cake* on the table. And—” She gasped dramatically. “—there’s a *cake* in the freezer!” Bill groaned. “Molly, we’re not here to eat. We’re here to *steal*.” “Exactly!” She grinned. “And the best way to steal is to *blend in*.” “You’re *blending* into the background like a human confetti cannon.” “Shut up and help me find the back door.” Bill groaned again, but he followed her toward the alley, where the partygoers’ laughter echoed like a siren call. Molly stopped at the first house, peering through the window. “Perfect. Kids are all inside, parents are *probably* distracted by the cake.” “Or they’re all just drunk,” Bill muttered. “Or they’re all *too drunk* to notice us,” Molly corrected. “Now—” She grabbed a nearby trash can and hurled it at the fence. It bounced off harmlessly. “Not good enough.” Bill sighed. “We need a distraction.” “A *distraction*?” Molly’s eyes widened. “Like… a *fake emergency*?” “Or a *very* dramatic explosion.” “Oh, you’re *so* dramatic.” She grabbed a fire extinguisher from the shed and aimed it at the fence. “Here. *This* is a distraction.” Bill caught it just in time, holding it up like a shield. “Molly, we’re *not* doing this.” “You’re *not* the one who’s gonna get us caught,” she shot back. “Now—*whoosh!*” She sprayed the extinguisher at the fence, sending a cloud of foam into the air. The kids screamed. The parents turned. And just like that, the party was *over*. Bill groaned. “We’re *so* screwed.” Molly grinned. “Not yet. Let’s go.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the fence. “We’ve got a *lot* of presents to steal.”