Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ8XXM9F4GPBDX09A8SSKJB

"Are you *nuts*?" Molly hissed, adjusting the tiara on her head. "A children’s party? That’s not a job, that’s suicide." "Suicide for amateurs," Bill said, grinning behind his clown nose. "They won’t expect it. It’s chaotic, festive, full of distractions and glitter." "I'm allergic to glitter," Molly muttered, rolling her eyes. “And balloons.” "Details, details,” Bill waved a plastic sword at her. “We're in plain sight as party entertainers—me with magic tricks, you juggling cupcakes. No one suspects fun. Meanwhile, we slip into the storage room and grab every plush rabbit and Lego set in there." "And what happens when they realize half the presents are missing?" Bill shrugged. “We leave a note: ‘Happy Holidays from the Secret Santa Squirrels.’ They’re kids’ parents. They’ll think it's part of the theme.” “They will *not*. Someone named ‘Santa Squirrel’ isn’t gonna cut it if those parents paid $80 per gift basket!” "You worry too much. We blend in, we steal discreetly, we get paid by the toy truck." Molly sighed. “You’re an idiot.” "But a *successful* one," Bill said happily, twirling a balloon like a baton. "Yes," she said, rubbing her temples. "I can already see the headlines: 'Local Woman Tackled by Six-Year-Old During Toy Caper.'"