Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAZY3SQDA18JKPBETDB6XV

The neon glow of the party store’s sign flickered like a dying firefly as Molly adjusted her oversized bow tie, the plastic bow wobbling precariously under her chin. She peered through the fogged-up window, her breath misting the glass in a pattern that vaguely resembled a sad, lopsided smile. Inside, a dozen kids in matching dinosaur onesies were tearing through stacks of presents like seagulls at a buffet. The parents, blissfully unaware, sipped punch from plastic cups while a piñata shaped like a grumpy T-Rex dangled ominously above them. Bill crouched beside her, his fingers twitching near the lock on the side door. He wore a Santa hat tilted at a jaunty angle, the red pom-pom bobbing with every nervous twitch. “You sure about this?” he muttered, voice tight. “Kids are *terrible* at security. They’ll scream, they’ll cry, they’ll *eat* the evidence.” Molly smirked, plucking a candy cane from her pocket and snapping it in half. “Relax, Bill. We’re not here to rob a bank. We’re liberating *toys*. The moral high ground is *ours*.” She tapped the side of her head. “Besides, I did my recon. The parents are all too busy judging each other’s cupcakes to notice a couple of ‘lost’ partygoers.” Bill exhaled through his nose, the sound suspiciously like a deflating balloon. “You realize if we get caught, we’re gonna have to explain why we’re dressed like a failed Christmas elf and a confused clown.” “First of all,” Molly said, adjusting her too-tight clown shoes, “I am *not* a clown. I am a *mime*. A *tragic* mime.” She gestured vaguely toward the door. “Second, if we *do* get caught, we’ll just say we’re the ‘mystery guests’ from the ‘surprise game.’ You know, the one where the parents *forgot* to invite us?” Bill’s eye twitched. “That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard.” “It’s *creative*.” Molly grinned, then suddenly gasped, clutching her chest. “Oh no. Oh no no no.” Bill groaned. “What now?” “My *glitter*.” She patted her pockets frantically. “I *swear* I had glitter. For *distraction purposes*.” Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. “You brought glitter to a *children’s party*?” “It’s *versatile*!” Molly hissed. “We could’ve used it to blind the security cameras, or—” “There *are no security cameras*,” Bill snapped. “This is a *party store*, Molly. The biggest threat is a toddler with a juice box.” Molly’s face lit up. “*Exactly*. Toddlers are *easy*. We’ll just—” She cut herself off, eyes widening. “Bill. *Look*.” Inside, a kid in a fireman helmet had just knocked over a tower of presents, sending wrapping paper and ribbons flying like confetti in a hurricane. Another child shrieked, pointing at the piñata, which had somehow been *sabotaged*—a string now dangled loose, the T-Rex’s beak gaping open like it was inviting them to strike. Bill’s shoulders slumped. “We’re not robbing this place. We’re *babysitting*.” Molly grabbed his arm, her fingers digging in. “No. We’re *opportunists*. That piñata’s a *goldmine*. And look—” She nodded toward the back corner, where a table groaned under the weight of half-unwrapped gifts. “The parents are *distracted*. The kids are *chaotic*. This is *heist theater*, Bill. We’re the *main event*.” Bill opened his mouth to argue, but then a particularly loud *CRASH* echoed from inside, followed by the sound of a child wailing. Molly’s eyes gleamed. “Now’s our moment.” She yanked Bill toward the door, her Santa hat askew. “Move. And *try* to look less like a man who’s about to commit grand larceny.” Bill adjusted his hat, muttering, “I *am* a man who’s about to commit grand larceny.” Molly shoved him forward. “Then *act* like it.” The door creaked open, and the scent of cake and sticky fingers hit them like a wave. Molly took a deep breath, then stepped inside—only to immediately trip over a stray toy truck, sending it skidding across the floor with a loud *BANG*. A small voice piped up from behind a couch. “Who’s there?” Molly froze. Bill’s face went pale. From the shadows, a pair of wide, curious eyes blinked at them. Molly forced a smile. “Uh. Hi! We’re the—” The kid grinned. “You’re *late*.” Bill’s soul left his body. Molly’s brain short-circuited. And somewhere, a piñata waited.