Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB7F83HXN9YPFSQYWKY94J

The neon glow of a flickering "Happy Birthday!" balloon cast long shadows across the backyard as Molly adjusted the strap of her satchel, her fingers twitching with the kind of restless energy that only came from plotting the perfect heist. Bill leaned against the fence, kicking at a loose brick with the toe of his scuffed boot, a half-eaten candy bar wrapper dangling from his mouth. "You ever think about how ridiculous it is that we’re about to rob a *children’s party*?" Bill asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I mean, where’s the challenge? These kids ain’t got no security, no alarms—just a bunch of little monsters with too much sugar and not enough sense." Molly smirked, pulling a pair of kid-sized gloves from her bag and tossing them to him. "Oh, come on, Bill. You love a good soft target. And let’s be real—these parents are *begging* for us to take their stuff. They’re out there laughing, handing over their credit cards like it’s a game of musical chairs. ‘Here, take this $200 LEGO set, we don’t even know what it is!’" Bill caught the gloves, rolling them between his palms. "Yeah, but what if the kid *remembers* us? What if they grow up and become some kind of vigilante or something? ‘Remember that time those weirdos stole my Nerf gun? That’s when I knew I had to save the world!’" Molly waved a hand dismissively. "Kids forget faster than a magician’s trick. Besides, we’re not stealing *from* them—we’re stealing *for* them. Ever think about it that way? These presents? They’re just sitting there, waiting to be *liberated*. Like a buffet, but for toys." Bill groaned, kicking the brick again. "You’re terrible at sales. ‘Hey, kid, your new bike’s not really yours—it’s *ours* now.’" "Watch me." Molly pulled a small, stuffed unicorn from her bag and held it up. "See this? This is *art*. This is a statement. We’re not just thieves—we’re *cultural revolutionaries*. We’re teaching these kids that the world’s not fair, and if they want something, they gotta take it." Bill snatched the unicorn, examining it like it might bite him. "You’re gonna get us arrested." "Nah." Molly grinned. "We’re gonna get *awarded*. Think about it—we’re the Robin Hoods of toy theft. The *Toy Story* heist crew. We’ll be legends." Bill sighed, tossing the unicorn back. "You’re insufferable. But fine. When do we do this?" Molly checked her watch, then her phone, then her watch again. "Now. The parents are all drunk on punch, the kids are hyper, and the cake’s still in the kitchen. That’s our window." Bill straightened, suddenly serious. "Alright. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you." Molly saluted him with a tiny plastic shovel from her bag. "Deal. Now let’s go make some kids’ dreams come true—*the hard way*."