Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95EB1CK6CDY8TXX2TFHT47

Molly adjusted her goggles, the glitter-strewn chaos of ‘Princess Sparkle’s Third Birthday Bash’ unfolding below. Tiny humans shrieked with glee near a deflated unicorn. Bill, dressed inexplicably as a giant crayon, shifted his weight nervously. "You really think this stunt is gonna work, Mol? Stealing from a gaggle of toddlers?" Bill whispered, tugging at his felt hat. "Seems a tad unsporting, even for us." "Nonsense, Bill," Molly replied smoothly, her gaze fixed on a suspiciously large pile of wrapped boxes under a cherry tree. "It's not stealing, it's an early Christmas redistribution. Think of them as underdeveloped entrepreneurs. Our job is to give their capital a more experienced manager. You create the diversion when the cake comes out. I’ll charm the gift bags." "Diversion? What kind of diversion?" Bill asked, eyes wide. "I’m a crayon, Mol. My options are limited. Do I… draw attention to myself?" Molly winked, producing a miniature smoke bomb disguised as a party favour. "Exactly. A rather colourful distraction, one might say. Now, remember the signal. When you hear three ‘Happy Birthdays,’ we move. And try not to melt."