Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYBB2XF2VBG33VSCAH28DXX

Molly hunched over the kitchen table, blueprints of the suburban backyard spread out like a treasure map. Bill paced, twirling a fake mustache that kept slipping off his lip. "Listen, Bill, it's genius," Molly whispered, eyes gleaming. "Kids' birthday bash at the Johnsons'. Balloons, cake, and a mountain of presents under that clown piñata. We slip in as caterers—I've got the van rigged with balloon animals for cover." Bill snorted, adjusting his mustache. "Caterers? With my allergies? One whiff of hot dogs and I'm sneezing glitter. What if the kids spot us? Those rugrats are like tiny detectives." "Exactly! We blame the clown. 'Hey, kids, the funny man took the toys!' Then we dash out the back with the loot. Load the presents into gift bags, call it a 'surprise giveaway' for our next gig." Bill stopped pacing, grinning. "Okay, but we need diversions. You handle the face painting—turn 'em into zombies. I'll rig the bounce house to deflate mid-jump. Chaos city!" Molly laughed. "Perfect. In and out in ten minutes. Richest haul since that pet store fiasco. No more ramen for us!" "Deal. But if I get pied in the face again, you're driving getaway."