Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA4DDBK08KKANPNPQ0VPZM

**Title: *The Great Toy Heist*** The neon glow of the party’s disco ball flickered against Molly’s grimy window, casting jagged shadows across the alley. She adjusted her ski mask, ensuring the brim hid her eyes from the curious glances of the kids inside. Bill leaned against the dumpster, arms crossed, watching her with the same bored expression he’d had since they’d first discussed the plan. “You’re sure this is the right place?” Bill asked, tapping his chin like a detective. Molly rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s the right place. It’s a *children’s party*. What else would we need?” Bill groaned. “We’re not just stealing presents. We’re committing *crime*.” “Oh, please,” Molly said, tossing a stolen candy wrapper onto the pavement. “This is just a *small* crime. Like, a *tiny* crime.” Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re gonna get us both arrested.” “Nah,” Molly said, already untying her sneakers. “I’ve got a backup plan. If we’re caught, I’ll just say I was *helping* the kids find their lost toys.” Bill stared at her. “You’re insane.” “And you’re *boring*,” Molly shot back. “Come on. Let’s go before the cops start thinking we’re just *really* into the glow sticks.” They slipped inside the party through a poorly secured back door—one that had been left open by a distracted parent. The room was a riot of laughter, glitter, and the faint scent of cake. Kids screamed as they danced, their faces lit up by the disco ball. Bill’s eyes widened. “Okay, this is *not* how I pictured a heist.” Molly grinned, already scanning the room for the most obvious targets. “Relax. We’re not stealing *anything* yet. We’re just… *observing*.” She spotted a tower of wrapped presents stacked against the wall, untouched. Perfect. Bill groaned. “You’re gonna get us all shot.” “Nah,” Molly said, already pulling out her lockpick set. “I’ve got a *better* plan.” She worked the lock with practiced ease, the mechanism clicking open with a satisfying *snap*. Bill watched, arms crossed, as she pried open the first box. “You’re *terrible* at this,” he muttered. “Shut up,” Molly said, pulling out a stuffed bunny. “Now *watch*.” She tossed it into her bag, then moved on to the next box. Bill followed, but instead of picking locks, he just stared at the chaos around them. “This is *way* too easy,” he said. “Because it’s a *children’s party*,” Molly said, already rifling through another box. “They don’t have *real* security.” Bill sighed, pulling out a toy truck. “You’re gonna get us both in *trouble*.” Molly didn’t look up. “Nah. I’m gonna get us *rich*.” She grabbed another box, then another, her bag filling up with presents. Bill watched, then suddenly grabbed her wrist. “Wait,” he said. “What if we *don’t* just steal them?” Molly blinked. “What?” “What if we *give* them back?” Bill said. “But *we* keep the ones we like.” Molly stared at him. “You’re *serious*?” Bill nodded. “Yeah. It’s *way* less risky.” Molly considered it. Then she grinned. “Okay. But we’re still stealing *some* presents.” Bill groaned. “You’re *worse* than I thought.” Molly tossed him a stuffed dinosaur. “Here. Take this.” Bill caught it, then suddenly froze. “Wait—what if we *swap* them?” Molly raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Yeah,” Bill said. “We take *all* the presents, but we *swap* them with the ones we *really* want.” Molly thought for a second. Then she nodded. “Okay. But we’re still *stealing*.” Bill grinned. “Deal.” They worked in silence for a few minutes, swapping presents like a pair of thieves in a game of musical chairs. Molly’s bag grew heavier with every stolen toy, but she didn’t complain. “You’re *terrible* at this,” Bill said again. Molly didn’t answer. She was too busy pretending to be a kid, her face lit up with excitement as she grabbed another present. “Wait,” Bill said, grabbing her arm. “What if we *just* take the *best* ones?” Molly looked at him, confused. “What?” Bill pointed at a glittery doll. “That one.” Molly stared. Then she grinned. “Okay. *Fine*.” She grabbed the doll, then another, then another, her bag filling up with the most expensive toys. Bill watched, then suddenly grabbed her wrist again. “Wait,” he said. “What if we *just* take the *worst* ones?” Molly blinked. “What?” Bill pointed at a broken action figure. “That one.” Molly stared. Then she grinned. “Okay. *Fine*.” She grabbed the broken action figure, then another, then another, her bag filling up with the *worst* toys. Bill watched, then suddenly grabbed her wrist again. “Wait,” he said. “What if we *just* take the *ones we like*?” Molly looked at him, confused. Then she grinned. “Okay. *Fine*.” She grabbed the stuffed bunny, the toy truck, the glittery doll, and the broken action figure—all at once. Bill watched, then suddenly grabbed her wrist again. “Wait,” he said. “What if we *just* take the *ones we like*?” Molly sighed. “Fine. *Fine.*” She grabbed every single present in the room, her bag overflowing with toys. Bill watched, then suddenly grabbed her wrist again. “Wait,” he said. “What if we *just* take the *ones we like*?” Molly groaned. “I *hate* you.” Bill grinned. “And I *love* you.” They slipped out the back door, their bag of stolen presents heavy with joy. As they walked away, the kids inside the party screamed with laughter, unaware that their greatest treasure had just been stolen—by two thieves who had no idea how much fun they’d had.