Run: 2026-03-12-01KKHZGSCFB4D0MB12418VZHVT

Molly, you’re joking. A children’s party? We’re not stealing from toddlers. Oh, grow a spine, Bill. It’s perfect. Twenty screaming kids, one distracted mom in a paper crown, and a mountain of brightly wrapped presents nobody’s guarding. We’ll be in and out before the ice cream melts. We’ll look like idiots in those tiny chairs. We’re not sitting, genius. You’re the clown. I already rented the suit. Big red nose, floppy shoes, the works. You show up as the “magician.” Pull a rabbit out of your hat, then shove the presents in the fake bottom while they clap. What if one of them recognizes us? From where, our extensive rap sheet of birthday parties? Relax. I’ll keep the little monsters busy with balloon animals. You swoop in, grab the haul, and we vanish before “Happy Birthday” even finishes. This is the dumbest score we’ve ever done. It’s the safest. Who calls the cops on the clown? Now shut up and practice your disappearing act, Bill. We strike at cake time.