Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA8JMR97026M1DSBXCVNZ9

Molly adjusted goggles sliding down her nose, smudged with coffee, eyeing a crayon-stained napkin. "Six presents, Bill. Six. None glow-in-the-dark Dinosaurs. Three toddlers, smearing chocolate, too busy to notice. In and out before cake’s lit—assuming no one cries over a lollipop." Bill knelt, prodding a plastic truck with a marker. "A truck?藏 (hid) good stuff in a *toy*? Kid logic—biggest present, biggest bow. On table near piñata, leaking candy. But wait—" He held up a whoopee cushion, dusted it off. "Piñata at 4:17. Distract with this. Too busy snorting to notice swapping teddy bears for…" He squinted. "Cereal. Stupid kids think presents are forever. Gone before they ask where action figures went—piñata mobbed, cake devoured, parents taking 17 photos." Molly stared. "Stealing cereal? We’re stealing Dinosaurs. The rest is distraction. And Bill?" He looked up. "Yeah?" She knocked the cushion from his hand; it bounced near a half-eaten cupcake. "Set it off during ‘Twinkle Twinkle,’ I blame balloon weights. Weighted, right? Not…" She gestured to deflated latex at his feet. He saluted. "Weights. Trust me. *Parent Trap*. *Ocean’s Eleven*. Cassanova’s a thief. Knows distraction." She sighed, but smiled. "Move. Cake has sparklers. Dave’s bakery lectures. Don’t have time." He winked, grabbing the truck marker, shoving the cushion in his pocket. "Twister’s for *crooks* with time. We’re *professionals*. C’mon—late, piñata empty, teddy bear with one ear. *One ear*, Molly. War crime."