Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ02J1PF2S8N4JE4FM71KWET

Molly traced the shape of a giraffe-shaped piñata with her finger. “Okay, new plan. We hit the party during the piñata phase. The kids are distracted, swinging a blindfolded stick at candy. We slip in through the doggy door, grab the gift table, and we’re gone before anyone even knows the piñata’s empty.” Bill sighed, picking a stray piece of glitter off his black turtleneck. “Molly, that’s insane. We’re not ninjas. We’re two grown adults with sticky fingers and a history of getting caught by mall security. We walk into that living room and we’ll look like two uncles who got lost on the way to the buffet.” “We look like party crashers, Bill. It’s a disguise. We’ll bring a cheap bottle of wine and act offended when someone asks for a gift. It’s perfect!” “And what about the presents? What if they’re not real presents? What if it’s all just socks and savings bonds? I don’t risk a five-year stretch in federal prison for a pair of argyle socks.” “Bill, have you ever been to a children’s birthday party? The presents are a goldmine. There’s an Xbox in there somewhere, I can feel it. At the very least, a brand-new set of LEGOs. LEGOs are like gold bricks.” “I still say we go for the piñata itself. It’s the only thing of value we know for sure is there. We can crack it open later, divide the spoils. Much simpler.” “And how do we explain a giant, empty papier-mâché giraffe to the parents? ‘Sorry, officer, we were just in the neighborhood and it looked lonely’? No, Bill. The gift table is the clear target. It’s the heart of the operation.” “The heart of the operation is not getting our faces plastered on the evening news. I’m telling you, the minute we step through that door, it’s over. Some kid is going to point at us and shout, ‘Those aren’t my mom’s friends!’ and then it’s chaos.” Molly rolled her eyes. “It’s a risk-reward scenario. High risk, high reward. You’re too cautious, Bill. We’re not trying to win a Nobel Prize in stealth, we’re trying to get free electronics.” “I prefer to think of it as attempting to avoid an extended stay in a concrete box with a guy named Tiny who thinks my smile is a sign of disrespect.” “Fine, you big baby. You stay in the van and be the lookout. I’ll go in. I’ve got the skills. I’ve got the charm.” “And I’ve got the getaway driver.” Bill slumped down in his seat. “Just please, please, please don’t wear that sequined hat.”