Run: 2026-03-18-01KM079AMD6JA68099T3ZZAVCW

Molly: “Okay, Bill, remember the plan: we don’t look like criminals.” Bill: “Right. We look like… two extremely responsible gift attendants.” Molly: “Yes. Like the kind of people who say, ‘Oh wow, a pony!’ and mean it.” Bill: “I can do ‘oh wow.’ I just can’t do ‘ponies.’ I’m allergic to—” Molly: “No allergy jokes. Focus. We’re breaking into a children’s party.” Bill: “A children’s party with, apparently, a ‘No Adults in the Playroom’ sign the size of a small moon.” Molly: “That’s why we’re not going into the playroom. We’re going into… the gift storage area.” Bill: “Which is definitely labeled ‘Gift Zone: Do Not Inhale’ in invisible ink.” Molly: “It’ll be obvious. Presents always have the same aroma.” Bill: “Vanilla frosting and impending regret.” Molly: “Exactly. Now—timeline.” Bill: “Timeline?” Molly: “Yes. We arrive after the ice has been broken.” Bill: “Who breaks the ice? Do we… ask the host to break it?” Molly: “Bill.” Bill: “Fine. After the screaming. The screaming is the ice.” Molly: “Perfect. We wait until the clown makes balloon animals. Kids get distracted by balloons.” Bill: “Balloons are basically floating red herrings.” Molly: “Thank you. Now, I’m going to scout the hallway.” Bill: “You always scout. Like you’re a guided tour.” Molly: “I am. ‘Welcome to the House of Gifting,’ please keep your hands inside the heist at all times.” Bill: “I’m bringing my hands. They’re the least suspicious part of me.” Molly: “Your hands are shaped like accidental confessions.” Bill: “That’s rude.” Molly: “It’s accurate. Okay, my device.” Bill: “Your device?” Molly: “The little suction-cup gadget.” Bill: “The one that helps you lift heavy things quietly.” Molly: “Yes.” Bill: “Last time you used it, you accidentally lifted a potted fern and it squealed.” Molly: “That fern was alive.” Bill: “So was the neighbor’s dog.” Molly: “Different situation.” Bill: “No, it squealed too. It was like we stole a botanical discord concert.” Molly: “Shh. The party starts soon. Let’s get into position.” Bill: “Position where?” Molly: “By the door. Pretend we’re lost.” Bill: “Lost adults are still adults. Adults with backpacks—” Molly: “Backpacks contain gifts.” Bill: “We’re stealing all the presents.” Molly: “We’re ‘re-homing’ them. For safety.” Bill: “Safety from… fun?” Molly: “Safety from being unappreciated.” Bill: “Kids never appreciate. They just scream ‘mine’ and then leave the box unopened for an hour.” Molly: “Then we do the opening.” Bill: “So we’re also performing… gift therapy.” Molly: “Exactly.” Bill: “How do we open without tripping the alarms?” Molly: “No alarms.” Bill: “No alarms?” Molly: “This is a children’s party. They don’t expect crime.” Bill: “But they expect glitter.” Molly: “Glitter is the crime. Everyone here is already guilty.” Bill: “True. Glitter makes everyone look like a criminal.” Molly: “Now listen. Once I get the gift pile, you grab the big ones.” Bill: “Like the toy kitchen?” Molly: “No. Like the stuff that looks expensive.” Bill: “So… the toy kitchen if it’s expensive.” Molly: “Bill, focus.” Bill: “I am focused. I’m focused on the kitchen’s ability to feed us emotionally.” Molly: “You can’t emotionally eat a kitchen.” Bill: “Tell that to my stomach.” Molly: “Fine. Just put everything into the bag.” Bill: “What bag?” Molly: “The bag shaped like a giant birthday card.” Bill: “That seems… suspiciously specific.” Molly: “It blends in.” Bill: “It’s currently leaking confetti.” Molly: “That’s just… decoration.” Bill: “Decoration with the stamina of a professional party cannon.” Molly: “Okay. Door opens. Clown’s doing the squeak-laugh.” Bill: “Which clown?” Molly: “The one with the orange wig.” Bill: “I thought that was the host’s hair dye.” Molly: “Bill.” Bill: “Sorry. I’m nervous.” Molly: “You should be. But not in the way that makes you look like you’re about to adopt a sock puppet.” Bill: “I wouldn’t adopt a sock puppet.” Molly: “Then don’t stare at the sock puppet.” Bill: “I wasn’t staring.” Molly: “You’re staring.” Bill: “Okay, I’m staring. It’s adorable.” Molly: “Save your love for after the exit.” Bill: “After the exit, we steal the presents and we—what—feel proud?” Molly: “We feel rich.” Bill: “And then we sell them to… who?” Molly: “To people who appreciate craftsmanship.” Bill: “Like collectors of tiny plastic cash registers.” Molly: “Exactly.” Bill: “All right. Three steps in, one step out, no squealing ferns.” Molly: “No fern, no dog, no balloon-based misunderstandings.” Bill: “And if anyone asks what we’re doing?” Molly: “We say, ‘We’re here to help unwrap the surprise.’” Bill: “That’s a lie.” Molly: “All heists are lies.” Bill: “I hate that you’re right.” Molly: “Smile.” Bill: “I’m smiling!” Molly: “Too big. Like you’re hiding a second smile in your pocket.” Bill: “I do have a pocket smile.” Molly: “Great. Put it away.” Bill: “I can’t. It’s currently serving as my emergency expression.” Molly: “Then make it… normal.” Bill: “Normal. Got it. Like a tax form.” Molly: “Perfect. Let’s go.”