Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAPA4N8K4GC3TF03YFFKY9

Molly and Bill huddled in their rusty van outside the suburban cul-de-sac, blueprints of "Timmy's Superhero Bash" spread across the dashboard like a treasure map. Molly, wiry and wild-eyed, chewed a pretzel rod like a cigar. "Bill, it's foolproof," she whispered fiercely. "We crash as piñata repairmen. Kids swarm us, we load the van." Bill, burly with a handlebar mustache glued crooked, snorted. "And the candy? We eat it all?" "Priorities, dummy," Molly snapped. "Presents first—Xbox, bikes, that pony!" They rehearsed: Bill would "accidentally" spill punch, creating chaos. Molly'd swoop in, sacks disguised as gift bags, scooping Lego sets and drones amid shrieking tots. Parents, three margaritas deep, wouldn't notice. "But the clown?" Bill fretted, adjusting his polka-dot bowtie. Molly grinned, painting whiskers on her cheeks. "He quits mid-show. Enter us, heroes!" As dusk fell, horns honked—party time. Bill revved the engine. "To heist or not to heist?" Molly punched his arm. "Heist, you idiot. Candy's ours too." They peeled out, laughter echoing, van sagging under empty sacks dreaming of plush unicorns and stolen joy. The kids wouldn't know what hit 'em—or rather, what vanished.