Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAX73WZRJFCF08C5193HHH

Molly leaned against the dimly lit warehouse wall, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she unfolded a crumpled blueprint. Bill paced nearby, cracking his knuckles. "Alright, Bill, listen up. The target's a kiddie birthday bash at the mayor's mansion—balloons, cake, and a mountain of wrapped goodies under that piñata tree. We hit it during the clown show. You dress as a magician's assistant, all sparkly tights and distractions." Bill snorted, adjusting his fake mustache. "Sparkly tights? Molly, I'm a master thief, not a disco ball! Why not you? You've got the legs for it." "Because I'm the brains, dummy. I'll sneak in as the caterer—poison the punch with sleepy juice, non-lethal stuff. Kids nap, parents panic, we grab the gifts. Easy peasy. That diamond-encrusted Barbie alone is worth a fortune on the black market." "Sleepy juice? What if a kid's allergic? We're crooks, not monsters!" "Relax, it's just chamomile tea concentrate. They'll dream of unicorns. You handle the getaway van—park it as a bouncy house delivery. Honk like a goose if things go south." Bill grinned. "Honk like a goose? You're twisted, Mol. Fine, but if I trip over a tricycle, you're buying me new knees." "Deal. Let's make those brats' party our payday!"