Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB2ZT6PDNWXKRR0MRWGVS4

“Okay, seriously, a children’s party?” Molly asked, meticulously polishing her lock-picking kit with a silk scarf. “Don’t look so horrified,” Bill replied, sprawled dramatically on a brightly colored beanbag chair. “Think of the possibilities. Pure, unadulterated, joyfully wrapped potential.” “Potential for glitter, Bill. Glitter *everywhere*,” she countered, wrinkling her nose. “And sugar. I’m predicting a hyperglycemic incident.” “Worth it. The target’s a Mrs. Higgins. Obsessed with themed parties. This year’s is ‘Pirate Adventure’. We’re talking treasure chests overflowing with…teenagers’ interests.” “You’re incredibly specific,” Molly observed dryly. “I’ve been observing, Molly. Observing. Plus, the security footage is a disaster. A toddler wielding a glue stick is monitoring the front door.” “A glue stick?” “Don’t underestimate the sticky menace. Seriously. I counted three attempts to staple the camera lens.” “Right. So, simplistic security, potential for adhesive warfare. Let’s talk strategy. We go in through the bouncy castle?” Bill sat up, a sudden glint in his eye. “Excellent suggestion! Disorienting, inflatable, and practically begging to be breached. We use the fog machine, causing maximum confusion, then I disable the pirate ship slide. Easy access to the gift table.” “You’re planning to disable a pirate ship slide?” “It’s aesthetically insulting, Molly. The prop is clearly powered by a single, flickering LED. I’ll just… bypass it.” “‘Bypass’ it? You sound like you’re dismantling a nuclear reactor.” “It's a slide, Molly! And a very poorly constructed one. What’s your contribution to this master plan besides excessive skepticism and a pristine lock-picking kit?” “I’m distracting the parents. I’ll loudly and repeatedly ask about the little pirates’ favorite sea shanties.” “You’ll…do that?” “It's demoralizing. They'll be so busy trying to soothe my inquiries that they’ll forget they're supposed to be watching their children.” “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. And what about the cake?” “Let’s not even discuss the cake. It’s a three-tiered chocolate monstrosity. I’m investing in industrial-strength gloves.” “Good call. My gut’s telling me we’ll need them. Did you snag the rubber chickens?” “They’re secure. They’ll act as a diversion. A very noisy diversion.” “Perfect. Okay, Molly, final question. If we get caught, what’s our cover story?” “I’m claiming we're performance artists. ‘Exploring the societal implications of gift-giving through immersive, chaotic experiences.’” Bill burst out laughing. “You’re insane. Absolutely insane. But perfect.”