Run: 2026-02-26-01KJCRWSJ526XFSEKTBZHCPPMA

The living room buzzed with the muffled giggles of kids in colorful costumes. A banner reading Happy Birthday, Tommy! hung crookedly above the couch where Molly and Bill crouched behind a stack of board games. Molly adjusted her ski mask, squinting at the party’s front door. “So,” she said, voice low but urgent, “you’re sure this is the plan? The one where we swap all the gifts for… what exactly? A bag of jellybeans?” Bill snorted, adjusting his fake mustache. “Jellybeans are *strategic*. They’ll distract the parents while we vanish. Besides, who’d suspect a bunch of candy in a kid’s backpack?” Molly rolled her eyes. “Easy for you to say. You’ve never had to sneak past a toddler clutching a unicorn plushie.” She gestured toward the window. “That’s my concern. What if the parents notice the lights are out?” Bill leaned closer, whispering, “They won’t. We’ve got a distraction. Remember the ‘mysterious’ smoke machine from last week’s prank? The one that turned the kitchen into a foggy cave?” “Oh yeah,” Molly sighed. “And the ‘explosion’ that set off the fire alarm. Not exactly subtle.” He grinned. “Subtlety’s overrated. Look—Tommy’s mom’s obsessed with ‘themed parties.’ If we dress as characters, no one’ll bat an eye. I’m thinking… a giant cupcake.” “A cupcake?” Molly raised an eyebrow. “You want us to wear frosting like a walking dessert?” “Exactly!” Bill clapped. “Kids love it. Plus, the presents are under the table. We just need to get close enough to grab them before they notice.” Molly crossed her arms. “What about the dog? Mrs. Jenkins’ poodle’s been trained to bark at strangers. Last time someone tried to sneak in, it howled like a banshee.” “Then we’ll bring earplugs,” Bill said, mock-serious. “Or maybe… a lullaby?” “Don’t be ridiculous.” She paused, then smirked. “But seriously, what if Tommy finds us? He’s got those detective eyes.” Bill shrugged. “Tell him we’re the new ‘party favors.’ Kids love that. ‘Here’s a thief, ma’am! Take a cookie!’” Molly laughed despite herself. “You’re impossible.” “And you’re welcome,” he said, tossing her a glittery party hat from the pile on the floor. “Now, about the timing…” She took the hat, adjusting it. “Okay, here’s the deal. We hit when the piñata’s empty. That’s when the adults think everyone’s done. Then, quick in and out. No touching the cake unless you want to explain why there’s frosting on your shirt.” Bill nodded. “And if anyone asks, we’re just… really enthusiastic guests.” “Enthusiastic enough to make them forget their own kids’ faces,” Molly added. He grinned. “Exactly. Now, about those jellybeans…” The kids’ laughter swelled through the house. Molly glanced at the clock. “We’ve got ten minutes before the piñata’s ‘celebration.’ Let’s move.” Bill saluted with a candy cane. “For justice… and snacks.” They slipped toward the door, Molly muttering, “I still think the dog’s a liability,” but Bill was already humming the party’s theme song. The plan, as always, was theirs alone.