Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAV48E5C2RM6D40YX35B1F

The chipped Formica of the diner booth stuck to Bill’s elbows. He was meticulously dissecting a sugar packet, creating a miniature, geometrically-questionable pyramid. Molly watched him, stirring her lukewarm coffee with the kind of intensity usually reserved for bomb disposal. “You’re going to ruin the structural integrity of Big Sugar, Bill. Focus.” Bill didn’t look up. “It’s a metaphor, Molly. A metaphor for the house. Precarious foundations. Easily toppled.” “It’s a sugar packet.” “Everything is a metaphor if you squint hard enough.” He finally glanced up, a smear of sugar dusting his upper lip. “So, Operation ‘Gift Grab’ is a go, right? Because I’m having second thoughts about the bouncy castle.” “Second thoughts? We discussed the bouncy castle! It’s integral to the distraction!” Molly practically hissed. “Think of it, Bill. A swarm of sugar-fueled six-year-olds bouncing off the walls while we delicately liberate the spoils.” “Delicately liberate? It’s stealing presents from children, Molly. It feels…low.” “Low? We once stole a prize-winning gnome from a garden! This is practically philanthropy. Think of the resale value on a vintage My Little Pony collection.” Bill sighed, abandoning his sugar pyramid. “Okay, okay, ponies. Look, I’m just saying, little Timmy's face when he realises his robot dinosaur is missing? That’s brutal.” “Timmy will get another robot dinosaur. Probably a better one. His parents are clearly flush with cash if they're throwing a party with a llama.” “A llama?” Bill’s eyes widened. “A fully-fledged, spitting llama. Apparently, it’s a trend. The parents got it specifically for the ‘Instagrammable moments’." Molly rolled her eyes. “Which, frankly, is just peak human ridiculousness. Adds to the chaos, though. Perfect for us.” “Right. Chaos. Good. Llama. Bad. Presents. Good.” He rubbed his chin theatrically. “So, you grab the board games, I go for the tech. Avoid the glitter. Definitely avoid the glitter. It clings like regret.” “Agreed. Glitter is the bane of my existence. And focus on the pre-teen stuff. The Xbox controllers, the headphones…leave the princess dresses to the professionals.” “You think there’ll be a security system?” “For a children's party? Bill, please. The greatest security threat is probably a rogue piñata.” Molly took a long swig of her coffee. “The real challenge is avoiding being identified. No bright colours, blend in. I’m thinking ‘disgruntled uncle’. You?” Bill considered this. “I can do ‘overly enthusiastic magician’s assistant’. I’ve still got the sparkly waistcoat.” Molly choked on her coffee. “Absolutely not. You look like a rejected Elvis impersonator in that thing. Think…dad. Middle-aged, slightly awkward, desperately trying to connect with his niece. Beige is your friend.” Bill groaned. “Beige. My life is officially beige.”