Run: 2026-03-18-01KM091NAWWKD5RV62FGTNJ57E

Molly peered through the bakery window at the inflatable castle glowing in the park. “There,” she said, tapping the glass. “Children’s party. Easy pickings.” Bill adjusted his gloves. “You really think toddlers are going to notice a couple of professionals?” “They’ll notice when their presents vanish,” Molly said. “That’s why we’re not professionals. We’re artists.” Bill snorted. “Artists don’t usually wear ski masks shaped like dinosaurs.” “Minimalism is back,” Molly said. “We blend in.” “With who? The other criminals at the preschool?” Molly folded a napkin into a perfect map. “Listen. Cake table on the left, balloon arch in the center, gift mountain by the pirate ship. We slip in during the clown’s magic act.” Bill frowned. “What if the clown spots us?” “Then we distract him.” “With what?” “Your face,” she said. He laughed despite himself. “You’re charming when you’re terrible.” “I know. Now, do you have the getaway scooter?” Bill patted a tiny folding scooter under his coat. “Suspiciously yes.” “Good,” Molly said, sliding a spoon into her sleeve. “We take the presents, vanish into the alley, and by lunch these children will be crying into juice boxes.” Bill grinned. “And us?” “We,” said Molly, “will be rich, infamous, and possibly covered in frosting.”