Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB03S3GJ3PMWG0NQRYD3E6

The neon glow of a flickering "Happy Birthday!" sign cast long shadows across the backyard as Molly adjusted the strap of her duffel bag, her breath fogging in the crisp autumn air. Bill leaned against the fence, twirling a candy cane between his fingers like it was a sword. "You sure about this?" Bill asked, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Last time we hit a kid’s party, we got chased by a piñata full of marbles." Molly shot him a look. "That was *one* time, and it was *their* fault for leaving the piñata unlocked. Besides, this place is *packed* with presents. You ever seen a warehouse full of toys? This is like a heist *and* a toy drive." Bill scoffed. "You’re comparing stealing from a bunch of kids to, like, robbing a bank?" "Exactly! Banks have guards, but kids have *no* sense of self-preservation. They’ll just hand you the presents like it’s a game of pass-the-parcel." Bill crossed his arms. "And what’s the play? We just walk in, grab everything, and—what, *wave* at the parents?" Molly grinned. "No, we *distract* them. You’re the lookout. I’ll be the one in the clown suit." Bill’s eyes widened. "*Clown?* Molly, I *hate* clowns." "Perfect. Everyone hates clowns. They’ll *beg* you to leave. Meanwhile, I’ll be in there like a furry little tornado, stuffing presents into this bag while the parents are too busy screaming to notice." Bill groaned. "You realize if we get caught, we’re not just stealing presents—we’re stealing *childhoods*." Molly waved a hand. "Relax. Worst case, we get arrested. Best case, we’re rich and famous. Either way, we win." Bill sighed, but there was a smirk tugging at his lips. "Fine. But if I see a single balloon animal, I’m throwing it back at you." Molly clapped her hands. "Deal. Now, let’s go make some kids *very* happy—*temporarily*." Bill adjusted his hat, muttering, "I’m gonna need a therapist after this." Molly laughed, already slipping on her oversized clown shoes. "Just think of it as a *public service*—free toys for the needy." Bill groaned again, but he followed her toward the back gate, already plotting how to explain this to the police.