Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ94JNP7F3Q711MMC5RBHS2D

Molly gestured wildly at the crumpled drawing spread across the greasy formica of the kitchen table. It was a child's crayon rendition of a bouncy castle with joyful, if anatomically challenged, stick figures. A hastily scribbled ‘X’ marked the location of the presents. "Bill, walk me through this: Target, St. Augustine's Community Hall. Saturday. Six-year-old's birthday bash." She tapped the drawing with a suspiciously sticky finger. Bill, perched precariously on a stool that groaned under his weight, barely contained his glee. "Operation Sugar Rush, Mol. Parents distracted by sugar-fueled toddlers. Bouncy castle, perfect noise dampener. Genius." He beamed, adjusting a tie-dyed bandanna around his head. Molly arched an eyebrow, a stray crumb clinging to it. "Genius? Or disturbing? Who's Barnaby? Why his presents?" "Barnaby's got rich friends. Trust me. Aunt Carol always goes overboard. Last year? A pony. Priceless." Bill’s eyes, usually a dull grey, sparkled with avarice at the memory of potential equestrian heists. "We are not dognapping," Molly declared, flattening the drawing. "We're relieving Barnaby of his LEGOs." "And the cash in the cards! Twenties in glitter-bombed envelopes. That's the real prize, Molly. Liquid assets." He clapped his hands together, bits of dry skin flaking off. Molly sighed, scrubbing at a mysterious stain on the tablecloth. "Security: Parents, 'Sprinkle-Tits' the clown – your words – and pre-schoolers. How do we get in and out, unseen, with Paw Patrol merchandise?" Bill jumped off the stool, nearly knocking over a stack of empty pizza boxes. "I infiltrate as 'Professor Wiggle-Bottom', renowned balloon animal entertainer." He struck a dramatic pose, stretching out his arms. "Your clown college dog looked like a sausage escaping a balloon." Molly deadpanned, recalling the traumatic experience. "My cat-in-a-hat balloon is legendary!" Bill insisted, pulling a deflated rubber tube from his pocket. "Our Trojan horse. Gifts by the cake. I distract. You… do your thing." He started comically twisting the tube, a grotesque, bulbous shape forming. "My 'thing' is stuffing a garbage bag while Barnaby screams about missing his monster truck?" She envisioned the headlines, followed by awkward parole meetings. "Quick! 'Misdirection of delight'. Focus on spectacle." Bill's hands flew, creating an alarming squeak with the balloon. "They won't notice. 'Whoopsie-daisies' from a balloon dog." "And when Barnaby's mum, Brenda, notices her son's happiness has vanished?" Molly pressed, folding her arms. "Diversion! Cake explosion." Bill puffed up the balloon into a chaotic knot. "Fire alarm. Release all balloons! Children into frenzy! Chaos, Molly. Beautiful, sticky, sugary chaos." He finished his creation: a lopsided, barely recognizable duck. Molly stared at the deformed avian, then at Bill's manic grin. "You enjoy planning these ludicrous schemes more than doing them." "The art, Mol. The dance of deceit. Outsmarting six-year-olds and their overprotective parents." He presented the balloon duck with a flourish. "Alright, Professor Wiggle-Bottom. Just protect your 'cat-in-a-hat' identity." She took the duck, poked it, and it promptly deflated with a sad, tiny fart. Bill looked genuinely heartbroken.