Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAXPH4SS9KK3M942D1FQGJ

The chipped Formica table wobbled with every frustrated thump of Bill’s fist. Half-eaten toast crumbs clung to his beard like lost hopes. “A children’s party, Molly? Seriously? This is what we’ve come to?” Molly, meticulously polishing a pair of comically oversized sunglasses, didn’t look up. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve cased it, Bill. Old Man Hemlock’s grandson, Timothy, is turning six. And Timothy, according to my sources – Brenda, the dog walker – is *spoiled*. We’re talking a miniature train set, a remote controlled dinosaur, possibly even a pony.” “A pony?” Bill’s jaw dropped. “You're planning a heist for a *pony*?” “Not specifically the pony, although if it fits in the van…” Molly finally looked up, tapping the sunglasses against her chin. “The principle, Bill. The sheer volume of untraceable, easily fenced goods. Think of it. Designer board games. Rare action figures. That little electric guitar little Timmy will promptly ignore. It's a gifting goldmine.” Bill scrubbed a hand through his thinning hair. “So, we’re robbing children. That feels… low, even for us.” “We’re not robbing *children*, Bill. We’re retrieving misplaced generosity. Old Man Hemlock made his fortune exploiting artisanal cheese markets. This is karma. Besides, those kids have too much already.” “That’s… a terrible justification, even for you.” Bill sighed, reaching for the lukewarm coffee. “What’s the plan? We can’t just waltz in there dressed as clowns.” “Actually…” Molly’s eyes gleamed. “I was thinking face painting. I’ve been practicing butterflies.” Bill sputtered, nearly choking on his coffee. “Face painting? You? The woman who once tried to disguise herself as a potted fern?” “Hey! It almost worked. And this is different. It provides access. We blend. We observe. We liberate.” “Liberate? You make it sound like we’re rescuing the gifts from a tyrannical regime.” “Semantics, Bill. Now, the party starts at two. Brenda says there’s a bouncy castle. A bouncy castle presents both opportunity and challenge.” “Challenge? How does a bouncy castle challenge a professional, albeit morally questionable, theft operation?” “Visibility. And potential for collateral damage. We don’t want to decapitate little Timmy with an inflatable dinosaur.” “Decapitate? Good lord. Okay, butterflies and bouncy castle avoidance. What about security?” “Minimal. One bored teenage nephew mostly preoccupied with his phone. Brenda says he’s easily distracted by talk of limited-edition Pokémon cards.” “Pokémon cards. Of course. This is the level we’ve sunk to. Bribing a teenager with Pokémon cards to steal presents from a six-year-old.” Bill stared into his coffee, a defeated slump to his shoulders. “I need a stronger coffee.”