Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAEMX7EAQ5049E29P5WA9P

Molly leaned against the van's steering wheel, binoculars pressed to her eyes, watching the bouncy castle deflate in the backyard. Bill fidgeted in the passenger seat, munching on a stolen candy bar. "Alright, Bill, listen up," Molly whispered. "The party's winding down. Kids are sugared up and crashing hard. We slip in as clowns—I've got the wigs and noses in the back." "Clowns? Molly, I hate clowns. Last time I dressed as one, a toddler puked on my shoes. Why not janitors?" "Because janitors don't juggle, genius. We blend in, distract the parents with balloon animals, then grab the present pile under the pinata. It's genius—presents wrapped like candy, easy to stash in our oversized pants." Bill snorted. "Oversized pants? This is a heist, not a circus act. What if the birthday brat spots us? 'Mommy, the clown's stealing my bike!'" "Relax, we'll dose the punch with sleepy-time herbs. Non-lethal, just nap-inducing. By the time they wake, we're gone with Barbies, Legos, and that giant teddy worth a fortune on eBay." "You're insane, Molly. But fine, I'm in. Just promise no balloon swords—I poke myself every time." "Deal. Now, honk your nose and let's roll."