Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAYYP9VGZ0N1D9F4K0HSDP

Molly adjusted her oversized clown wig in the dim light of their dingy van, parked just a block from the bustling suburban backyard. Balloons bobbed like cheerful sentinels over the fence, and the distant squeals of sugar-high kids mixed with the tinny blare of a piñata song. Bill, her partner in crime, fiddled with a pair of fake noses and a map scribbled on a napkin. "This is foolproof," Molly whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "We go in as entertainers, grab the gift pile during the cake chaos." Bill snorted, adjusting his polka-dot bowtie. "And if the parents spot us? We're toast." She grinned. "Improvise! Juggle the presents right out the gate." He rolled his eyes. "Brilliant. Next you'll say we ride unicycles." The plan was absurd: infiltrate the birthday bash of little Timmy Wilkins, whose parents had foolishly stacked a mountain of wrapped toys by the bouncy castle. Molly had scoped it out—LEGO sets, scooters, even a drone. Bill preferred banks, but times were tough, and kids' parties were low-security goldmines. "Ready?" Molly asked, slapping on greasepaint. Bill sighed. "As I'll ever be. Let's clown this joint." They slipped out, giggling like idiots, hearts pounding with the thrill of the ridiculous heist.